Taming the Shrewd
by obscureineurope
Summary: Masumi lives a charmed life, wherein his father throws him at profitable females, said females become offended at his lack of interest, and the one woman he wants hates him with a vehement passion. M/M.
1. The Red Carpet Treatment

AN: Edited by the lovely prettyinpinkgal. Pardon the OC. Also, yes, I view alcohol as a funny plot device.

... Drink responsibly. Especially in the presence of a multibillionaire.

* * *

Taming the Shrewd

Chapter One – The Red Carpet Treatment

Masumi had a habit of dividing people into categories, such as "CEO", "Musician" and "Parent", accounting for all of their quirks by placing them into subcategories, such as "Temperamental CEO", "Fickle Musician" and "Anxious Parent". He knew that this practise was frowned upon, but justified it by the fact that while other, less insightful, individuals might only place one label on their fellow men, he made use of at least two dozen per person.

In the subcategory of "Difficult to deal with", "Actors", or more specifically, "Actresses", topped the list. They were completely illogical, lived in a world of their own and were impossible to argue with, as they would just start yelling and throwing things at you until you went away. Following close behind, however, were "Directors", which was why Masumi was less than pleased to find out that he was going to have to babysit one for an indefinite amount of time.

"And exactly _why_ do I have to take care of this director woman?" Masumi asked Mizuki, his red rimmed eyes emoting negative intent more effectively than usual. It's amazing how much a fourteen-hour work day can help you in expressing the will to murder.

"Don't kill the messenger, sir," Mizuki said, raising her hands in surrender. "It was your father who made the decision. He's worried that he might outlive you, at the rate you're working."

"That's touching," Masumi snorted, "but what's the real reason?"

"Anna Kusano, a.k.a. 'that director woman', is coming all the way from America to do a project with Daito. Master Hayami felt that you would be the best man for the job of welcoming her, as well as representing Daito."

"And perhaps he was hoping she'd be so smitten with me, she'd stay in the country long enough to direct another feature for Daito?" Masumi leaned back with a sigh. "Sometimes, I feel I'm nothing more than a glorified escort..."

"You'd certainly be a high class one, were that the case," Mizuki said, in an effort to be both comforting and annoying. "I doubt all that many escorts are paid in ten digits."

Her endeavour was successful; Masumi glared at her while smiling, before rising to stretch out the numerous kinks he'd developed.

"I guess I've been neglecting the social side of this job lately," Masumi admitted. "Besides, this Kusano person might prove to be a bit more interesting than the usual sort of woman my father tries oh-so-subtly to set me up with to further Daito. When am I supposed to meet with her?"

"Now, preferably. She's waiting down in the bar for you."

"_Now_?" Masumi gave up on trying to knead out the rock hard knot of tension in his shoulder. "Why now? Why wasn't I told about it before?"

"Because it wasn't possible to tell you until now. She was supposed to arrive tomorrow, but apparently she became restless and decided to take an earlier flight."

"Then I'll just see her tomorrow, when I'm more prepared. Tell her I'm sorry, but I'm currently neck deep in reports."

"I'm sorry, sir, but that's impossible. You see, Miss Kusano asked if you weren't too busy to see her, to which I had to reply that you had worked so much this last week, you were months ahead of the rest of the entertainment world."

"You really did think of _everything_, didn't you?" Masumi growled. "Fine, I guess I have to see her, but you must brief me on her personal and professional history on the way down to the bar. If your information is lacking, and I'm put into an awkward position because of it, then I get to deduct the cost of our drinks from your pay check. Understood?"

"Understood," Mizuki said. She might've flinched at that threat, as Daito's company bar was notoriously expensive, if she hadn't known that Masumi had no intention of fulfilling it.

With a gloomy exhalation, Masumi retreated into his private bathroom to splash cold water onto his face to remove its dismal expression and to change into a new, crisp suit.

"You clean up nicely, sir," Mizuki remarked as he emerged.

"Let's just get going, alright? Before I fall asleep."

To give Mizuki more time to talk about Anna Kusano, they took the stairs instead of the elevator. Apparently, Anna Kusano was born from a Japanese mother and an American father. While she'd spent her first five years in Hokkaido, her father had found a lucrative job in his home country, and so, the family had moved to New York. As one might've guessed, her father was a movie director, and Kusano had followed in his footsteps. She became famous for her versatile style, directing everything from romances to thrillers, historical dramas to comedies. Moreover, she was often featured in gossip magazines, as she had a tendency to date the lead actors of her movies, who were more often than not at least five years younger than her.

"So I wouldn't be a potential target for her, would I?" Masumi said, stifling a yawn.

"On the contrary; you would be an exemplary pray," Mizuki cheerfully replied. "She's 38, and she has a weakness for handsome, clean-shaven men. I'm sure you'll get along just fine."

Masumi shuddered as he adjusted his tie.

"Thank God that I've perfected the art of rejecting women without them knowing it," he muttered. "If she touches me inappropriately, I demand you come rescue me."

"Maybe you should just try going with the flow for once, sir, and see where it takes you. You might enjoy it."

"If I ever feel like turning my already complicated life into a vortex of chaos, I'll be sure to follow your advice. As it is, I shall maintain my celibate lifestyle, no matter how fascinating and liberated she might be."

To his credit, Masumi's determination to keep things strictly professional only wavered slightly when he saw just how fascinating and liberated Anna Kusano really was, whereas other men would've abandoned it completely. She was sitting at the bar in a distinctly provocative manner, her long, black hair trailing down her partially naked back.

"Miss Kusano, I presume?"

She looked up from her gaudy, fruity drink at his greeting, her lips already armed with a smile.

"That I am," she said, reaching out her hand to Masumi. "And you are, I presume, Mr Hayami?"

He didn't like the way she was eyeing him, but he accepted her hand and the seat beside her nonetheless.

"At you service," he said, the shape of his mouth expressing friendly professionalism. "I hope your trip from New York was pleasant?"

"Top notch," Kusano assured him. "I had one of the best naps of my life on the plane here."

_Sleep_, Masumi thought longingly, but he hid his envy impeccably.

"I'm glad to hear it. Let me welcome you on Daito's behalf by paying for your drink, as well as any future refreshment you might feel like ordering here."

"Oh, thank you! You're really much too kind. Judging by the quality of this drink, however," she took a blissful sip of her tall glass, "I'll make good use of your offer. You'll probably come to regret making it in the end."

_Thank god,_ Masumi thought, _she at least has a sense of humour. Maybe this won't be complete death after all. _

"Not at all," Masumi said. "I'm only too happy to be of service to someone who appreciates the excellent work of Daito's bartenders as much as I do."

"Then I'll drink to you, Mr Hayami," Kusano said, raising her glass. "And to you, Kenji, the best bartender of this hemisphere."

"Thank you, miss," the aforementioned bartender said, bowing his head. "You flatter me far too much."

"Ah," Kusano sighed, "this is what I love about Japan. Polite bartenders. Why don't you order something, Mr Hayami? It's so lonely to drink alone."

Masumi wouldn't have minded a good glass of something extra potent, but as he hadn't eaten in four hours and hadn't slept in far too long, he figured that even the smoothest of spirits would knock him out like a whiff of chloroform.

"No, thank you," he politely declined. "I like to keep a clear head when making new acquaintances."

"Really?" Kusano said, her earrings jingling as she tilted her head inquiringly. "It's a shame. You look like you'd be fun inebriated."

As no one had ever said that to Masumi before, he didn't quite know how to respond. He settled on the quip, "You'll have to verify your theory some other time," which made Kusano chuckle. It was strange, but even though he was sleep deprived, starved, lovelorn and lonely, he felt next to nothing at making a beautiful woman like Kusano laugh.

_Oh, shorty,_ he thought, smiling genuinely for the first time that evening, _you've truly ruined me for other women. _

"But now," Kusano said, playing with the miniature umbrella from her drink, "down to business."

Never before had Masumi been more grateful to hear that phrase.

OXOXO

Mizuki found Masumi dead asleep on the sofa in his office the following morning, still dressed in his suit. It wasn't the first time she'd found him in the same position, so she simply walked up to him, shaking his shoulder.

He jumped into lucidity, saw who had disturbed his sleep, and growled.

"_Never_ patch me up with any damn director again," he told his secretary sourly, rubbing his eyes free of sleep. "She kept me up until _one_. That's _two hours_ of watching her eyes slowly lose focus, all while enduring her mixing professional propositions with decidedly less than professional propositions. It. Was. _Hell_."

"Really, sir?" Mizuki said, smiling as her innocent inquiry made Masumi snarl. "Rumours state that she's quite charming."

"She might be charming, but she's not worth losing two hours of precious sleep over."

"You were going to spend those two hours working anyway, sir. You'll at least admit that Miss Kusano is more appealing than paperwork."

"Paperwork doesn't make improper advances. Paperwork is therefore to be preferred."

"Maybe you would enjoy being hit on better if you hit back?"

Masumi precariously rose from his position on the couch, wincing as a variety of things popped and squeaked.

"What exactly are you trying to suggest, Mizuki?" he asked, even while knowing and disliking the answer.

"I merely think that you should try what life has to offer," Mizuki said, "which includes a meaningless flirt with an exotic director. It would make a fresh change from wallowing in misery over a potentially doomed romance, don't you think?"

Masumi grimaced, but this time, his pain didn't stem from his abused limbs.

"I know I haven't exactly been... cheerful lately," he began.

"You haven't been cheerful in over twenty odd years," Mizuki corrected him.

"Yes, _well_, I know I've been even more dismal than usual lately, but I hardly think a liaison with the most flirtatious woman in the world is going to help remedy that."

"It might, sir. You won't know until you try, do you?"

"I'm sure it won't. You see, in order for a sordid affair to be the least bit rewarding, you actually need to feel some kind of attraction for the one you're going to get sordid with."

Masumi could tell by Mizuki's eyebrows that her eyes widened at his statement.

"You didn't feel attracted to Anna Kusano?" she asked him. Her tone, coupled with her arched eyebrows, made it amply clear that she didn't believe him.

"Not in the least. She spent the last half hour latched against my arm, and all I was fantasizing about was gnawing my arm off and escaping to the blissful land of sleep. In fact, that's still all I can think off, minus the arm part, of course..."

"But you must feel _something_ for her," Mizuki protested. "Even _I_ felt a little bit attracted to her!"

"While that is _very_ exciting to hear, it doesn't have any effect on my feelings for her at all, especially since I have none."

Mizuki wondered if she should be sad, happy or impressed. "Maya really has a firm hold on you, doesn't she?"

"I can hardly breathe because of it, let alone pick up other women. Sorry to disappoint you, Mizuki. I'm sure you were looking forward to selling the inside scoop on my and Kusano's tawdry affair to the tabloids."

"... Well," Mizuki said, taking the suit jacket Masumi was using as a blanket, ignoring his protests, "in that case, there's only one thing you can do."

"And what's that?" Masumi muttered, rubbing his cold arms, mentally adding "you cruel shrew" to the sentence.

"Confess to Maya."

All that could be heard was the clock's ticking and the occasional crack from Masumi's bones.

"I'm sorry?" Masumi finally said, half-convinced, half-hoping, that he had simply misheard Mizuki. "What did you say?"

"I said," Mizuki leaned down over Masumi, raising her voice, "_confess to Maya_. If you're not interested in anyone else, it's only logical that you should pursue her, right?"

"I agree with you," Masumi snatched back his jacket, "but here's the thing: Maya hates me. That's a poor setup for wooing, you must admit."

"Then give her a reason not to hate you. Tell her the truth; that while you're responsible for a great amount of suffering, Tsukikage would probably be dead and she wouldn't even have a career if it wasn't for you. I'm sure she's a good enough sport to at least hear you out after that."

"You're mad," was Masumi's indelicate reply. "Utterly mad. She would only start alienating Purple Rose as well as me if I told her. I have to make her feel as though I'm not the anti-Christ before I attempt anything of the sort."

"You could just say you're scared."

"Very well; I'm scared, because I know that she won't accept me as Purple Rose as things are right now. End of discussion."

Mizuki just raised her chin, as if to elevate herself above her employer, and walked over to his desk, tidying it up. Masumi breathed a sigh of relief; a five-minute argument with Mizuki was far more taxing than a fourteen-hour work day. He covered himself with his jacket and was about to go back to sleep, only to realize that it was impossible. He was wide awake, aching and eager to find something to distract himself from the fact that Mizuki was far wiser than he was.

_She should try being madly in love with a teenager who hates her guts,_ he thought darkly, rolling off the sofa and onto his feet. _Let's see how logical she'd be about it._

"Oh, sir," she called out to him, as he dragged himself towards the bathroom, "I forgot to tell you: you've got this week off."

Masumi murmured something unintelligible, closing the bathroom door behind him. It wasn't until after he'd washed his face and was preparing to shave that he truly processed what Mizuki had said.

He stuck his head out, half of his face covered in frothy shaving cream, and asked his secretary:

"Eh?"

"You've got this week off," Mizuki reiterated.

"I don't remember requesting time off."

"It was Master Hayami who felt you needed a vacation."

"Oh, _god_," Masumi groaned, slumping against the doorframe; "he wants me to go sightseeing with the director woman, doesn't he?"

"Well done, sir. You got it in one."

"But I _don't want to_! Doesn't that mean anything? I'm _29_; I should at least be free to choose when I bloody go on a holiday and who with!"

"Your father is only asking you to keep her company for three days. Today, he wants you to have lunch with her. Tomorrow and the day after that, he wants you to attend the Drama Festival with her. After that, she's no longer your problem, so the rest of the week, you're free to do as you wish."

"Oh, _yes_," Masumi muttered, retreating back into his bathroom to finish his hygienic task, "I feel so much better being forced on a mandatory holiday, now that I know I will get a whole _four days_ for myself. So, how long has this 'vacation' been in my schedule?"

"Since the beginning of May, I believe."

"It's so nice to have such an open, democratic relationship with your father. Damn the fact that people for some reason find me appealing. If I was plain, he'd never send me on these ridiculous outings."

"I'm sure Miss Kusano appreciates you for your personality, and not for your looks."

"Yes, because I'm such a wonderful, together person, who radiates serenity and is at peace with himself and the world at large."

"Just keep up the sarcasm, sir. That'll douse any woman's passion."

"Thank you, I shall."

As he was arranging his tie with experienced ease, he thought about the hell that was the next three days. Truth be told, he didn't dislike Kusano as vehemently as he'd like Mizuki to think. Sure, she was utterly unprofessional, none too adept at reading body language, and without a proper set of boundaries, but at least she wasn't as mind-numbingly boring as the daughters of some CEO/magnate/politician or other that he was usually forced to entertain. He had, however, felt less than enthusiastic about the careless way she kept invading his personal space without invitation.

_Guess I know how shorty feels with me,_ he thought wryly, dabbing cologne on his wrists, rubbing the excess amount off on his neck. _But I decline to learn anything from the experience._

"When am I scheduled to have lunch with that woman?" he asked his secretary, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. "I've no more extra suits stashed in the office, so I'd greatly appreciate going home to change."

"As it's," Mizuki checked the clock on the wall, "ten to twelve, and you're scheduled to meet Miss Kusano in the lobby at twelve, I should think that you'll have to beget getting a clean suit."

"I had a sneaking suspicion that that would be the case," Masumi grumbled, pulling on his suit jacket. "It's just going to be one of those weeks. Hopefully, my smell will discourage her from making any improper advances."

"One can imagine that it would," Mizuki said, smiling helpfully.

Masumi glared at her, muttering as he buttoned up his jacket:

"Remind me again: exactly _why_ haven't I fired you five times over?"

"Because the chances of you finding another secretary who's willing to rearrange your entire schedule to give you time to go tease a girl are slim to none," Mizuki said. "There," she straightened his collar, ignoring his warning growl; "you look perfectly presentable. But unfortunately, the cologne you're wearing is covering up all undesirable odours quite admirably."

"Damn the fact that I have excellent taste in cologne," Masumi said, his face turned to the ceiling, as though he was cursing whatever god that had bestowed him with so many attractive qualities. "Anyway, during this 'vacation', feel free to call me about whatever problem that might hopefully occur in my absence."

"I would _never_ be so rude as to disturb you on a date," Mizuki said, splaying her hand across her chest, as though she was offended by the mere notion. "Please, do not worry that I will interrupt; Miss Kusano will have you all to herself this afternoon."

"I loathe your very core," Masumi called over his shoulder as he walked out of his office.

"Have fun, sir," Mizuki chirped, secure enough in her position as Masumi's secretary to dare to wave at him.

Masumi entertained dark, dark thoughts as he made his way to the lobby, scaring the wits out of two office ladies and three assistants. Even though he felt he would enjoy Kusano's company far more when she was sober, he knew that being with her would invariably make him think of all the things he didn't want to think about: his father's complete disregard of his integrity and the fact that Maya probably wouldn't even care the slightest bit even if he took Kusano up on her less-than-wholesome suggestions.

He managed to wipe the snarl off his face by the time his elevator had reached the ground floor, and was smiling impersonally when he approached Kusano, who was sitting on one of the sofas in the lobby.

"Miss Kusano," he said, reaching out his hand to her, helping her onto her feet, "we meet again."

"Good day, Mr Hayami," Kusano said, looking more upbeat than anyone who'd drunk three Piña Coladas and a White Russian the night before had any right to be. "I hope I didn't embarrass myself too much yesterday?"

"Not at all," Masumi lied, putting on a fake expression of surprise. "I was greatly entertained by your Betty Davies impression."

His dislike of her was mollified as she blushed, grimacing at the hazy memory.

"I'm really sorry," she said. "I'm usually not that much of a bother, but I've no head for alcohol and it's been a long time since I've been able to enjoy a quiet moment with an interesting man."

"It's alright," Masumi said, slightly more sincere this time. "You're a charming drunk."

Kusano laughed, covering her face with her hands.

"I don't think I believe the slightest bit in that," she said, taking the arm he offered her, "but thank you for trying."

"It was nothing," Masumi assured, leading her towards the entrance. "We'll just have to make sure to order you mineral water instead of..."

Kusano glanced up at Masumi as he trailed off, about to ask him to finish his slight, when his expression made her forget everything else. He was staring straight ahead, his eyes wide and his features unreadable, yet somehow incredibly expressive. Then his lips parted into a brilliant, genuine smile, his voice light and youthful as he cried out:

"Shorty!"


	2. The Girl and the Goddess

AN: Unless stated differently, this installment and all following chapters of this story have been edited by the empyreal prettyinpinkgal. There; now it'll take a little longer before I run out of adjectives to describe her beta-reading glory.

Edit: A special thanks to Devilishduck for pointing out a language foible in this chapter; thankfully, the observant lass caught onto it early.

For a story that features a female OC so prominently, this fic is doing rather well. It's been received far better than I'd dared hoped. Fingers crossed that I can retain your interest.

Please, enjoy some Maya with your banter. (And some Sherlock Holmes with your Mizuki).

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Chapter Two – The Girl and the Goddess

Masumi was, usually, too much of a control freak to allow himself to be spontaneous. But after fourteen hours of work, two of pointless socialisation and approximately eleven of fitful sleep, his mind wasn't in the best of shapes. So when he saw Maya in the lobby of Daito Art Productions, her childish apparel and befuddled expression making her stand out like a sore thumb in the professional crowd, he couldn't stop himself from crying out:

"Shorty!"

His already foolish grin widened as she started, her expression exactly like that of a deer caught in headlights. He was less enthusiastic about the way her eyebrows twitched when she looked at him, but had to admit that Maya made even loathing seem cute.

She reluctantly bowed to him, muttering something inaudible, all while scouting the surroundings for an escape route. As he'd been deprived of her presence for far too long, Masumi released Kusano's arm to block Maya's path.

"My," he said, "but isn't it a bit too early for terrorism?"

As he'd predicted, Maya gaped at him.

"... _What_?" she said, staring at him as though he was mad (an expression Masumi had grown accustomed to receiving).

"When I see a girl who's professed to hate Daito with a fiery passion walk into its headquarters," Masumi explained, "naturally I'll assume that she's up to no good. What've you got in that purse?" He hooked a finger around the brim of the purse, peering inside. "A bomb?"

"It's none of your business!" Maya yanked her purse out of his reach. "Please leave me and my things alone!"

"So, you're not going to use a bomb?" Masumi rubbed his chin, mulling over the possible ways Maya might go around destroying his company. "Then you're going to start a fire? Unfortunately for you, shorty, we've just installed a state of the art sprinkler system, so you might want to come back with a bomb instead."

"I'm not going to do _anything_!" Maya hissed. "_God_, but with you as their boss, I think a bomb attack would be a welcome distraction to your poor employees!"

Masumi just chuckled, while said "poor employees" stopped to see what was going on, using transparent ploys to make it look as though they were still working, rather than gawking.

"You're just mad because I saw through your scheme," he said. "But fine, I'll humour you: if you didn't come to commit random acts of violence, then why are you here?"

"Like I said," Maya raised her chin, brushing past Masumi, "it's none of your business."

"I beg to differ," Masumi said, grabbing onto Maya's arm. "I can't let a known enemy of Daito walk around here on unknown business."

"Then I'm sorry that I'll have to make life harder for you," Maya said, her brow furrowed with annoyance as she ripped her arm out of his grip.

"No matter," Masumi said. "I think I know anyway. During your regrettably short time as one of Daito's assets, you only got to know two of its employees especially well: Mizuki and me. As you're obviously not here to meet me, you must be here for her sake."

"That's a _really_ good deduction," Maya said, her saccharine tone informing Masumi that she wasn't the least bit sincere. "Why don't you go open up a detective agency?"

Maya was about to renew her stride, when a hand once again obstructed her. This time, however, it wasn't Masumi's; rather, it belonged to a meticulously made-up, mature woman, whose red lips were turned up in an amused smile.

"Hello," she said, holding out her hand to Maya. "I'm Anna Kusano. You are?"

"Ah," Maya blushed, taking Kusano's hand, bowing her head, "I-I'm Maya Kitajima. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm quite well," Kusano said, smiling at Masumi, "thank you for being polite enough to ask."

Masumi nearly grimaced; he'd completely forgotten about Kusano.

"Miss Kusano," he said, "I'm truly sorry for neglecting you; it's just that Miss Kitajima used to work for me. Her coming here surprised me."

"Oh, so it's Miss Kitajima now?" Kusano said. "I thought it was 'shorty'? Please, there's no need to be stand on ceremony on my account."

"Well, if you don't mind," Masumi said, shrugging, much to Maya's chagrin. "Shorty here used to be an actress in Daito's employ."

"Really?" Masumi felt himself warming to Kusano, as she made an effort to keep the disbelief out of her voice. "Then tell me, Miss Kitajima, how did you find Mr Hayami as an employer? Was he truly worse than a bomb threat?"

"N-no," Maya lied, "that was just a joke..."

"Every joke has a bit of truth in them," Masumi said. "Shorty, you might want to know that Miss Kusano is a director we've managed to lure away from America. She's come to direct a series for Daito."

Maya felt a strong urge to moan; compared with Masumi and Kusano's social grace, she felt like a child who'd wandered into a fancy dinner party. After some struggle, however, she managed to find a suitable reply:

"That's great! What's the series called?"

"That's private information, shorty," Masumi said, interrupting Kusano's (far more civil) response. "It would be unprofessional to impart it, unless you're willing to make a trade."

"A trade?"

"Yes. Just tell me what Mizuki wants with you, and I'll give you the full scoop on our production."

Kusano gave Masumi a surprised look; she'd thought him to be far too cautious to give out information on a pre-production project so frivolously. Maya, however, was less than impressed:

"I don't know what Mizuki wants with me, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. Not even if you offered me the secret to eternal youth in return."

Masumi whistled. "Your integrity is truly staggering. But then again, I should think that spending an eternity as a shorty would be a curse, rather than a blessing?"

"_Mou_!" Maya glared at Masumi, and then turned to Kusano with a genuinely polite smile. "It was really nice meeting you, but I have to go. Good luck on your show; I'll be sure to watch it when it airs."

"Th-thank you," Kusano said, slightly bewildered by Maya's sudden change in expression, "it was nice meeting you too."

Maya turned to Masumi, gave him a disdainful look, and coolly said:

"Goodbye, Mr Hayami."

"Goodbye, shorty," Masumi said, bowing. "A pleasure, as always."

Maya just murmured something and then strode away with her chin aloft. The effect her prideful walk might've had was destroyed as Masumi called after her:

"Do you still know the way to my office? Do you want me to send someone with you, so that you don't get lost?"

Maya's shoulders started to shake, her hands curling into claws as she struggled to contain a monstrous fury. For nearly a year, Maya'd been forced to go to Masumi's office once every other week to give him a report on her progress, during which he'd never failed to either tease or chide her. She could've found her way there even if she'd been blindfolded, simply by following the trail of malignant energy that emanated from Masumi's lair.

But as she had no wish to embarrass herself further, Maya cast off her anger and replaced it with an artificial smile:

"That won't be necessary, but thank you for offering."

"Are you sure?" Masumi said. "You've been away for a while, and lord knows that you have a penchant for getting lost. Like in the MBA TV's headquarters, where you for some reason ended up asleep in one of the sto—"

"_Goodbye_, Mr Hayami," Maya pressed out, before spinning around on her heel and marching into the elevator.

Masumi sighed contently; nothing revitalized him quite as much as bickering with Maya did. A little verbal spar with her and he was fit enough to take on anything (even a middle-aged, lustful director).

"I apologize for my discourtesy," he told Kusano, who was staring at him with barely disguised wonder. "Let's go; I know a great place just down the street."

Kusano nodded, but as he saw she was about to ask him about what had just occurred, Masumi reclaimed her arm and diverted the conversation into a less uncomfortable direction:

"So, I hear your last project was called 'The Maharaja's Daughter'. Could you tell me more about it?"

OXOXO

Maya spent the long elevator ride up to the Masumi's office meditating, trying to wash away the feelings of frustration that her encounters with Daito's vice-president always infused her with. It was annoying, the way he effortlessly made her act exactly like she didn't want to act: argumentatively, sarcastically and caustically. There was just something about the way he looked at her, as though she was a fun new toy, combined with the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make her livid. Granted, that wasn't the most difficult of tasks, but when you considered their history, it was nothing short of a wonder.

Not too long ago, she'd hated Masumi with an intensity that had frightened her, as she'd found out that he'd isolated her sick mother for the sake of publicity. While he'd made a bizarre attempt to apologize to her, and had tried to help her back to the stage after her breakdown in an even stranger manner, exactly what had caused them to return to their old routine as bully and indignant victim?

_It'__s his stupid face,_ she decided, pouting. _I don't know why, but as soon as I see his berating little smile, I just want to... to smush it! _

Maya sighed, leaning back heavily against the elevator wall. _I can't keep doing this; I'm __eighteen__, for god's sake! It's embarrassing enough to be teased in the first place, let alone to react like an aggravated little kid._

She folded her fingers into fists, a look of absolute determination on her face. _Well, that ends here. The next time I see him, I'll be politeness and calmness itself. I'll smile at his jibes, and say "Did you think of that all by yourself? How clever!". That'll shut him up!_

While her motivation was as immature as Masumi's behaviour, she didn't care to come to that realization. All she cared about was that she now had a fighting chance of trumping Masumi.

Her confidence lasted until after she got of the elevator, and then vanished in a puff of smoke. There was something about the atmosphere at Daito that made her feel as though someone was going to walk up to her, look her up and down and then say, in the most patronizing voice imaginable, "Are you lost, little Miss?". Everyone looked so austere, as though they were in the process of doing something incredibly important and that her mere presence was distracting them from their task.

She hurried away from the questioning glances she received from office ladies, assistants and businessmen alike, trying to look as though she belonged there as she reached the corridor outside of Masumi's office. The office lady at the reception desk did nothing to boost her esteem, as she was of the stern, no-nonsense variety of women that invariably found Maya irritating.

"Yes?" the office lady said, regarding Maya suspiciously. "Can I help you, miss?"

"Y-yes," Maya stammered, "I, um, I'm Maya Kitajima. I'm here to see Mizuki, Mr Hayami's secretary..."

Her eyes still narrowed with suspicion, the office lady activated the intercom. "Miss Mizuki, there's a Maya Kitajima here to see you."

After a moment's pause, the intercom crackled to life:

"Please send her in."

Once Maya had been officially approved of by her superior, the office lady was all smiles, practically chirping as she begged Maya to step into Masumi's office. She had to take a deep breath before she could follow the office lady's directive; the last time she'd been here had been shortly after her mother's death. She and Masumi'd had a rather forceful argument about whether she should continue acting, which had ended with him clutching her wrist and telling her that that she belonged to him.

_But it wasn'__t like that!_ she told herself as she closed the door behind her. _He just meant that I belonged to him like an armchair belongs to a furniture shop owner! Nothing more!_

Next to no furniture salesman had ever stared at their furniture with the same level of possessiveness that Masumi had directed at her. But, being the delicate person that she was, Maya conveniently overlooked this fact as she went to greet Mizuki:

"Good day, Mizuki! Long time, no see!"

The secretary looked up from whatever she'd been doing, smiling at Maya.

"Hello, Maya. Thank you for coming on such short notice. Please, sit down on the sofa, and I'll call for some tea."

"Oh, that's not necessary…"

As Maya's basic setting was "needlessly polite", Mizuki ignored her, ordering the office lady on the other side of the intercom to bring them tea.

"So, Maya," Mizuki said, sitting down next to the actress, "how are things? Have you found any work?"

"Yes, actually," Maya said. "I'm playing Puck in Ikkakuju's production of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. It's playing in Kichijo Temple Park in July. It's been so much fun acting with my friends again; I didn't realize how much I'd missed it until our first rehearsal."

"I'm glad you're doing so well," Mizuki said, though she was already well aware of Maya's new career move. "But enough chitchat: I've asked you here because I wanted to give you a gift."

"Eh?" Maya blushed, not sure how to react to the secretary's sudden bout of generosity. "I-I'm flattered, of course, and thank you for thinking of me, but what's the occasion?"

"Let's call it a belayed 'Welcome back to the stage'-present, shall we?" Mizuki plucked out two tickets from the inner pocket of her blazer, placing them in Maya's hands.

"Oh, thank you," Maya said, inspecting the tickets, "that's really thought..."

Maya couldn't finish her sentence, as her jaw was firmly dropped. She had to read the text on the ticket two more times before she dared to believe her eyes, and even then, she had to confirm her findings with Mizuki:

"A-are these tickets to the Drama Festival?"

"Indeed they are," Mizuki said, unable to resist smiling at the girl's flabbergasted reaction. "Do you like my gift?"

Maya's mouth opened and closed, as though there were no words powerful enough to describe her gratitude. She decided to make up for the weakness of linguistics with volume:

"_Like_ it? I _love_ it! Thank you so much, Mizuki! Ever since I saw the first poster for it, I wanted to go to it—I even _dreamed_ of it—but this must've cost you a fortune!"

After Mizuki had managed to decipher the torrent of words Maya had launched at her, she said:

"Daito is one of the festival's sponsors, so a chosen few of our staff were given free tickets. I only recently realized that I was tied up with work on the days of the festival, so rather than to let them go to waste, I wanted to give them to someone who'd really appreciate them."

"Oh, don't worry; I'll really treasure them!" Maya said, looking at the tickets with pure adoration.

"I'm sure you will." It was at times like these that Mizuki could see with perfect clarity why her boss had become so firmly attached to Maya; it was as natural as a moth being drawn to a flame.

The office lady from before entered with tea and finger sandwiches, which Maya received with great enthusiasm. The one thing she'd missed about Daito was its finger sandwiches.

"By the way," Mizuki said, after she'd dismissed the office lady, "did you happen to meet Master Masumi on your way up here? He should've left about the same time as you arrived."

Mizuki could immediately tell that Maya'd met Masumi, as her expression became stormy.

"I did," Maya muttered, popping a finger sandwich into her mouth, masticating it savagely.

"I assume that the meeting didn't go that well?" As if to make up for her boss's rudeness, Mizuki poured up a cup of tea for Maya.

"It did not." Maya crossed her arms, pouting. "I don't get it; why does he always single me out?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Apparently, Maya didn't quite know what she meant, so she bought herself some time to formulate her thoughts by blowing at her tea. "I mean, he always picks on me, but he never does it with anyone else. Like, he was with a woman, um..."

"Anna Kusano," Mizuki helpfully supplied, closely observing Maya's expression.

"Yeah," Maya said, her brow furrowing, "Anna Kusano. Anyway, he was completely normal and polite with her, but as soon as he saw me, it was all bomb threats and shorty. Why? Is there something funny about my face or what?"

Mizuki sighed; so this is what Sherlock Holmes must've felt like with Watson. _You see, Maya,_ she thought, _but you do not observe_.

"Well, Master Masumi doesn't often meet people like you in his line of work," Mizuki explained. "People either try to get on his good side or they try to undermine him. It's probably refreshing for him to meet someone who doesn't care what he thinks of them, but, being the egocentric man that he is, he still wants all of your attention to be focused on him."

Maya digested this nugget of wisdom over another finger sandwich and a sip of tea. "That... that actually makes a lot of sense. But still, I don't want him to treat me like a target! It's mortifying!"

"That's easily remedied. You see, I've observed that you and Master Masumi have developed a routine: you transparently try to conceal your dislike for him, causing him to become amused since he can easily see through your ploy. He then teases you because he knows you'll display a wide array of what he considers to be humorous emotions: indignation, irritation and frustration. All you need to do to break the circle is to be genuinely kind and polite to him."

Mizuki might as well have suggested that Maya only needed to walk on the moon. "But... he's so mean! I don't know if I can fake it. I mean, I tried it once, and it just made him laugh even more."

"Then don't fake it; act instead. Pretend that Master Masumi is a poor, unfortunate orphan that has a tendency to say the wrong thing."

Maya was about to say that it was beyond the capacity of human imagination to think of something that ridiculous, when she realized that Masumi was, in a way, an orphan. Eisuke Hayami wasn't his biological father, after all, and didn't seem to view Masumi as a son so much as an employee. And he did have a propensity to say what he shouldn't, though he did so deliberately, rather than accidentally.

"I could try it," Maya said. "I did promise myself to act more mature around him, but I didn't really think I could pull it off. Thanks, Mizuki; you're a lifesaver."

"It's nothing, really," Mizuki said. "I just felt you might be in need of some cheering up, after what happened at Academic Arts Awards."

"Thank you," Maya said, "but you don't need to worry about me. I've decided to take one day at a time, and not worry too much about the future. I'll just concentrate on doing my best in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' before thinking about getting another role."

"An admirable resolution," Mizuki said. "Oh, and before I forget: I made reservations at the restaurant of the hotel where the Drama Festival is being held. Would you like to take over that reservation?"

"I'd love to," Maya breathed, nearly overcome by her incredible luck, "but I, I don't know if I can afford it."

"It's no problem," Mizuki assured her. "Daito often conducts business there, so I already have a tab. Just order whatever you want; money is not an object."

"Really?" Maya felt uneasy at receiving so much goodwill all at once. "W-well, I don't know..."

"I'm very serious when I say money isn't an object," Mizuki said, putting her hand on top of Maya's. "You wouldn't be taking advantage of my kindness, Maya, but you'd be doing me a favour if you were to accept it."

"A, a favour?" Maya definitely felt uneasy at the otherwise cool and detached secretary's sudden emotional display.

Feeling that she'd communicated her intentions, Mizuki pulled back her hand. "Yes. I feel that while I was your manager, I didn't do my job properly. I thought of what was best for Daito, rather than what was best for you, and that was unprofessional of me. You were my client, so your needs should've come first. This," she gestured at Drama Festival tickets, "is my way of apologizing for my behaviour."

"Oh, Mizuki, no," Maya hurried to say, "you were a great manager. I don't think anyone else would've been able to put up with me but you."

"It's very kind of you to say that," Mizuki said, unable to resist smiling. "But as you valued my assistance when I was your manager, I trust you won't upset me by refusing my offer."

As she was unable to resist an eloquent speech, Maya accepted Mizuki's generosity without anymore hesitation. They chatted about various things until the tea and the sandwiches ran out, at which point they decided to say good bye, as they both had important tasks to return to.

Once Maya had left the office, Mizuki smiled diabolically, her ever present sense of prudence the only thing that prevented her from laughing maniacally. She was usually a practical person who didn't waste her energy on doing trivial things, but even so, she enjoyed a challenge. Her interest in her boss's feelings for Maya was in part due to her being strangely fond of both parties, but it mainly stemmed from her want to work miracles.

Though perhaps it was hubristic of her to think that she alone could do anything to mend Masumi and Maya's fractured and abnormal relationship.

_Oh well_, she thought, shrugging as she started going through various mind numbing reports, _at least it's something to do._

Masumi only had himself to blame for her interference in his love life; if he'd made her actual work more interesting, she wouldn't have to resort to playing Cupid in order to satisfy her intellectual needs.

OXOXO

Masumi thought his fake vacation had come off to a surprisingly good start. His meeting with Maya'd revitalized him completely, enabling him to converse with Kusano with all the charm, wit and good humour she could've desired. Thankfully, the director was far better company when sober, though maybe that was due to the fact she wasn't making any seedy suggestions. An added perk was that because of her drunken indiscretion, she was subdued to degree that she'd refrained from asking him about Maya, even though she clearly wanted to discuss the tiny actress.

But as they were nearing the end of their lunch, Masumi could see that the director's curiosity was about to triumph over her sensibilities (which was no doubt a common occurrence). Rather than be put at a disadvantage, Masumi beat her to the punch:

"You're probably wondering about the girl we meet, Maya Kitajima, and what my connection with her is?"

Kusano was caught off guard by the question; as she'd only been part of the Japanese entertainment industry for less than a day, she'd yet to learn of Masumi's mindreading abilities.

"I was, actually," she finally said. "Is she really... I mean, I don't want to be rude, but she didn't really look like an... um..."

"I know that she doesn't appear to be anything special," Masumi said, smiling at the director's sudden lack of eloquence, "but she really is an actress. She's one of the best, actually."

As said plain girl wasn't present, Kusano let all of her confusion show at that statement, saying:

"Really? But she can't be more than fifteen, can she?"

Masumi prevented himself from chuckling by taking a draught from his wine. "She's about eighteen, I think, but she's been acting since she was thirteen. She's a certified professional."

"That's really impressive," Kusano said, playing with her glass of mineral water. "Ah, didn't you say that she used to work for Daito? What sort of an actress is she?"

Masumi put his elbows on the table and knotted his fingers together, thinking hard about how to answer the straightforward question. "It's... somewhat hard to describe. It's something that you have to see to understand."

"She's so magnificent, words alone can't describe it?"

"'Magnificent' really isn't the right word," Masumi laughed. "She still lacks a lot of finesse, and her performance can be downright clumsy at times, but she has a rare quality: she completely lives the part, and somehow manages to make the audience live it too."

Kusano leaned forward, intrigued by the description. "What do you mean, 'she makes the audience live it too'?"

"And that's what you need to see to believe. You can understand what her character is feeling perfectly when she makes a certain expression or movement, but more than that, you feel it yourself. It's like you're experiencing her emotions first hand."

"Hm," Kusano said, her brow wrinkling, "she can do that much? It's hard to believe. It must be quite a thing to behold. But wait," she continued, missing the way Masumi's eyebrow twitched, "you said she used to work for Daito. How come she's not in your employ anymore?"

To buy himself some time, Masumi put the last of his steak in his mouth.

_Should I tell a half truth,_ he wondered as he chewed, _or a complete lie?_

While he had no reason to be the least bit truthful towards Kusano, he disliked lying when there was no immediate need for the practise. Besides which, as she was a foreigner with no real connection to either him or the Japanese entertainment industry, there'd be no harm in revealing a small fragment of his relationship with Maya to her:

"Miss Kitajima isn't fond of Daito, and it was with great reluctance that she joined us to begin with. I'm just glad that we got to keep her for as long as we did."

"What does she have against Daito?"

_Oh, quite a lot_. "She's a bohemian, and we're capitalists. That's enough to create friction."

"That's all?"

"... I'll have to admit that she's not quite that small-minded. The history of our opposition is both long and dreary."

"Oh my," Kusano laughed, "but I've hardly been in Japan for a day, and I've already uncovered a feud! I know you have no obligation to satisfy my troublesome curiosity, but feel free to elaborate on it."

_So basically, you're saying "__Please tell me everything, even though I've absolutely no right to know anything about it". Well, as long as you're being honest..._ "It's a simple affair, really. Maya's mentor, Chigusa Tsukikage, owns the right to a play called 'The Crimson Goddess'. It's a wonderful play, but she's refused to allow anyone to stage it, as she wants to choose the actress that's to interpret the main character herself. That's where Maya comes in. She's one of the candidates for the main role, but as she's still unpolished, it will take quite some time before 'The Crimson Goddess' will open to the public. Daito wants the rights to the play, as we already have an actress that suitable for the role, but Tsukikage refuses to compromise. Thus, the friction."

He went back to his meal after that, as though he was speaking about something that was as common as rain.

"I-is that so?" Kusano stammered. "But you and that girl, um, oh, I have the worst memory when it comes to names..."

"Maya Kitajima," Masumi helpfully supplied.

"Yes, Maya Kitajima, thank you. Anyway, you and she didn't really seem to be on a bad footing."

"... I'm sorry?" This was possibly the first time anyone had ever construed his relationship with Maya as anything but painfully dysfunctional.

"Well, you were joking around, weren't you? It was like, oh, what's it called, ah, manzai!"

Masumi found no reply to that, as this was definitely the first time anyone had likened his relationship to Maya to a comedy act.

"I really love manzai," Kusano sighed, paying Masumi's speechlessness no heed. "The pacing, the timing... There's really nothing like it anywhere else in the world. Your conversation with her reminded me of it."

"... An interesting comparison," Masumi said once he'd found his voice. "I suppose Maya and me aren't enemies in the traditional sense. I've already decided to give in to Tsukikage's demands, and even if I hadn't, Maya wouldn't be a threat to me."

"I guess it'd be hard to imagine her as an enemy in any scenario," Kusano mused. "It'd be like declaring war on your niece. Ah, speaking of titles, I must ask for your assistance in a linguistic conundrum."

"I'd be happy to help."

"I'm a bit confused about how to address you. Your assistants seem to call you 'Master Masumi', Maya called you 'Mister', so where do I stand?"

"There's no need to over think it. Just refer to me as 'Mister Hayami', and I'll call you 'Miss Kusano'."

"Oh, you can call me Anna, if you like. I'm not used to titles, so I'd rather do without them."

Masumi just smiled and shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that. It's nothing personal, but if I refer to you by your first name, people will misconstrue our relationship."

"Eh?" Kusano raised an eyebrow, but still continued, "I... I suppose that's true?"

Masumi knew that Kusano was experiencing a culture shock, but didn't care to comfort her. Whatever energy he'd gained from meeting with Maya was beginning to fade, and his train of thought was returning to its usual murky, dark tracks.

Much like how he labelled others as though they were documents he had to categorise, he had several different ways to view the world that he switched between when necessary. If he was dealing with a difficult project, he limited his world to the task at hand, seeing the people around him as either assets or hindrances. If he was forced to play nice with people he hated, he imagined that he was conversing with overgrown children who simply hadn't learnt how to censor their speech yet (which, unfortunately, usually was the case).

But there were moments when he had to see the world for what it really was, no matter how much it depressed him, and now was one of those moments. Even though his relationship with Maya was civil enough that he could enjoy a five minute conversation with her, the fact still stood that she didn't like him and that chances were slim to none that that'd ever change. Even worse, his father saw him as a piece of property and would probably be delighted about selling him to the highest bidder. Other than that, said familial bond had lent him out, without asking for permission, to a stranger.

_What a fulfilling life I lead_, Masumi thought bitterly.

But if Masumi hadn't been (to some degree, at least) an optimist, he wouldn't have survived for as long as he had. Therefore, he chose to make another effort to ignore the unfortunate circumstances of his situation, and focus on the positive.

While he came up a little short vis-à-vis things that didn't utterly suck, he did manage to find one ray of light: it might make for a pleasant change of place to spend some time with a person that wouldn't hate, berate or use him for her own good.

One should think he would've learnt by now that his luck wasn't nearly good enough to allow such a miracle to happen.


	3. Langauge Barriers

A/N: Ahahah, _wow_, sorry about how long this took to produce. This was supposed to be a guilty pleasure, and now, I'm just feeling guilty about it. Hopefully, the content will make up for the absence.

* * *

The morning of the Drama Festival, Masumi'd woken up on autopilot. He'd decided that he was going to be as emotionally invested in his "date" with Kusano as an especially dense brick, keeping all conversation and thoughts nice and superficial. This was somewhat hard to do, as he had a nagging feeling in the back of his head that he was marching to his doom when he went to pick up Kusano. That feeling intensified as he led her into the lobby of the Bando Hotel, and it refused to subside, even as he gave her a tour of all the festival had to offer.

He couldn't put his finger on exactly what was bothering him, but he knew that Mizuki'd something to do with it. Even if she viewed making fun of him as a sport, she usually made sure to drop him a hint if his father intended to patch him up with someone. The fact that she'd been completely silent about Kusano was not only unsettling, but potentially dangerous.

"Oh!"

Kusano's delighted cry snapped him out of his reverie. This had become a common practise ever since they'd entered the hotel; they'd come upon a stand that was selling scripts/biographies/theatrical memorabilia, Kusano would make an enthusiastic noise and tell Masumi exactly why she'd become so happy with aforementioned product. Masumi was grateful for her enthusiasm; it was easier to fake happiness if you were emulating someone else's glee.

The stall that had Kusano delighted this time around was selling—_Oh, dear god,_ Masumi thought—all things manzai related. There were DVDs, history books, lengthy essays on the subject, dolls of famous comedians and even harisens of varying sizes.

Kusano took the stall in with teary eyes, whispering something that might have been "Manzaaai~" under her breath.

"You weren't joking when you said you loved manzai," Masumi said, raising an eyebrow.

"Hm, well," Kusano toned down her enthusiasm, realizing that it was making her look ridiculous, "it's a sentimental attachment. When my family moved to America, my mom would play videos of manzai acts when she was feeling homesick. It's one of the reasons as to why my Japanese hasn't faded completely."

"It also explains why your dialect has a distinct element of Kansai-ben."

Kusano flushed; clearly, he'd been correct in his deduction. But apparently, Kusano'd had enough of being the butt of the joke and said:

"Since you're being such a gracious host, Mr Hayami, how about I return the favour?" She picked up the biggest harisen the stall had to offer, flexing it experimentally. "I'd like to buy you this for your and Miss Kitajima's routine."

The novelty of being the victim of a good-natured ribbing made Masumi forget to be annoyed by Kusano's insinuation. He even went so far as to go along with the joke:

"I assure you: I'm definitely not the straight man in that routine."

"Should I buy it for her, then?"

"Not if you have any concern for my wellbeing. She might seem to be about as violent as a tea party at a retirement home, but she'd put that harisen to good and gleeful use."

"It sounds like you know this from firsthand experience."

"Like I said," Masumi picked up a Masatoshi Hamada key chain, inspecting it dubiously, "bohemians and capitalist mix about as well as oil and water."

"It's a real shame," Kusano put the harisen down to ogle at the key chain, "that you can't get along. Male-female manzai duos are rare."

"I apologize for disappointing you," he plopped the trinket down into Kusano's hand, "but I've no intention of gracing the stage with my presence, even if it would contribute to the art of comedy."

"... Are you sure? You would be an interesting actor."

Masumi furrowed his brow; Kusano was looking at him a little too intently for her question to simply be a joke. "Thank you, but I'm busy enough as it is without adding an acting career to my plate."

"You're absolutely sure?"

_So, it definitely wasn't a joke, other than in the cosmic sense of the word_. "I'm afraid so. Why; are you offering me a job?"

"I was actually thinking about it," Kusano admitted sheepishly. "But never mind; it was just a silly thought."

She smiled at Masumi before she moved over to make small talk with the salesperson. As he hadn't felt any particular interest towards manzai since he'd turned eight, Masumi's thoughts wandered as he absently played with a foam rubber blackjack.

Masumi'd been raised to be paranoid, which was why he couldn't accept that Mizuki would just randomly decide to invite Maya to Daito on the very day that Kusano was scheduled to arrive in Japan. His suspicion was strengthened by the fact that she'd tried to encourage him to have an affair with said director, and when that failed, she'd immediately brought up Maya.

But even if it was clear that Mizuki was trying to stir something up, it wasn't exactly topical right as of now. Despite her routine bouts of insubordination and frankly baffling sense of entitlement concerning his private life, Mizuki was still his employee. She wouldn't risk making him lose face in front of an important client just to prove that he needed to make a move or end up as the world's oldest living virgin outside of a nunnery.

The longer he pondered about his secretary's loyalty to his integrity, however, the more disconcerted he became. Mizuki's first duty wasn't to anyone other than herself. If she wanted him to face his problems and stop spewing lovesickness all over her work place, there was a disconcertingly large chance that she'd use any means she felt necessary to make that happen.

Now, why did that make Masumi feel simultaneously aggrieved, envious and proud?

He was mercifully distracted by another one of Kusano's exclamations:

"Lord almighty, they have the collected works of 'Abbott and Costello'! Cultural diversity is the _best_!"

While he'd much rather liked to have spent the day sans a liberated tourist who was incapable of acting her age, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been.

For one, she'd yet to cop a feel.

OXOXO

Maya thought she'd experienced the full gamut of emotion, from short to tall. But as she stood in the lobby of the Bando Hotel, taking in the dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of different stalls, all dedicated to theatre, she felt a completely new feeling well in her chest: unbridled material want.

"Simmer down," Rei, who'd been brought as a chaperone, advised her. "We've all day to go through this stuff. Don't try and take it all in at once; you'll overheat."

Maya nodded, sucking in a trembling breath. Her effort to calm down was only slightly successful, however; she was still smiling like a blissful fool as she floated over to the first stall. As it was filled to the brim with enormous collection of scripts, her elation intensified.

"Remember that we're on a tight budget," Rei said, seeing that Maya was eyeing the books greedily. "Don't spend it all on the first stall."

"You're right," Maya sighed, deflating. "Oh, but there's so much—and it's all so nice—oh, _why_ didn't I save up for this?"

"That might have something to with the fact that didn't know you were coming here until yesterday. And don't forget the whole having no income thing."

Maya sagged down over "The Love Suicides at Sonezaki". Until now, she'd never truly realized how inconvenient being poor really was.

"Don't worry," Rei said, bumping her shoulder. "I'll chip in if you see something you really like, as a thanks for bringing me with you."

Maya was gearing up to protest her roommate's generosity, as she'd been raised to take up as little space and time as possible. Rei made a dismissive hand movement, which Maya'd come to understand meant, "You can say what you want, but as I know it'll just be your inferiority complex speaking, I won't listen to a single word".

"It was really nice of Mizuki to give you those tickets. I didn't know you two were close."

"Actually," Maya mused, "I didn't either. I mean, she took real good care of me when she was my manager, but yesterday was the first time I've seen her since I left Daito."

"I guess she just sat down and thought, 'Hm, who do I know that would go near comatose with joy over getting these tickets?'," Rei reasoned, eyeing through a copy of "The Katari Chairs". "I'm sure yours was the first name that popped up."

"Probably," Maya admitted, making Rei roll her eyes. The tiny actress had never quite gotten the gist of playful banter. "I'm just glad she thought about me at all. She even gave me advice about how to deal with Hayami."

"Crowbar to the knee?" Rei chirped.

Maya laughed, as all mentions of metaphysical violence towards Hayami were comedy gold to her. "No, unfortunately. She just said that I should act as though he's a poor, socially awkward orphan boy."

"That's... a bit of a stretch." Rei's brow furrowed with concentration as she tried to visualise it. Her mental picture of Masumi refuse to look like anything but a cocky bastard in an expensive suit, except for the fact that he'd now gained a quivering lip and wide, tear-filled eyes. She shivered, adding, "It's also very disturbing."

"I know," Maya sighed, "but I'm at least going to give it a try. It's better than being a sitting duck for his insults."

Rei nodded, giving Maya a cautious glance. Understandably, Hayami was a touchy subject to Maya, what with the whole "isolating long-lost mother up in the mountains because it'd seemed like a good idea at the time"-stint. He'd been a sore spot to Maya long before that, but now, the sheer spectrum of emotions she displayed at the mere mention of his name was... worrying.

In order to keep her friend cheerful, Rei steered the conversation back onto more commercial waters:

"How's about we get 'The Importance of Being Earnest' and 'The Red Demon'?" She held up the books, smothering a chuckle as Maya immediately perked up, like a dog being offered a bone. "You know, to get into the multinational spirits of things?"

Her diversion was successful: Maya smiled brightly, her voice infused with pure grade happiness as she said:

"Cultural diversity is the best!"

OXOXO

Masumi was amazed to realize that he'd made it all the way to lunch time without anything catastrophic happening. He'd expected nothing short of a rain of sulphur, as the constant throb of anticipation in his gut was making him blasphemous, but there'd been nothing out of sorts. This annoyed him more than it soothed him, as he'd gladly take traumatic events over being wrong. Ultimately, however, he decided to ignore his ego in favour of getting food.

Kusano heartily agreed with his bid for nourishment. This didn't surprise him, as the woman had spent the last two hours on her feet, speaking with anyone who looked inclined to answer and buying anything that caught her fancy. Her load of purchases had in fact grown so great, he'd instructed his driver to stuff it into the car and drop it off at Kusano's hotel room. He'd performed this favour strictly out of practicality, but Kusano'd still thanked as though he'd slain a dragon for her.

At any rate, they'd sauntered into the hotel restaurant arm-in-arm, eliciting some glances and tittering from the other patrons. Kusano didn't seem to mind the attention; in fact, she looked like she was enjoying it, smiling at the room as she adjusted her grip on Masumi's arm.

Masumi resisted the urge to roll his eyes, telling the headwaiter about his reservations.

"Ah, yes," the headwaiter said, "Masumi Hayami, party of four. Right this way, sir."

"Four?" As the waiter had already walked away, Masumi was forced to make his protest on foot; "I'm sorry, but there must be some mistake."

"I don't think so, sir. The other two of your party have already arrived."

"Indeed?" Masumi muttered. "How nice."

"Did you invite someone else, Mr Hayami?" Kusano asked, and Masumi supposed he should be flattered by her disappointment.

"I didn't," Masumi said, choosing to smirk in the face of adversary, "but I have a pretty good idea about who did and why."

Kusano was about to question that statement, when she saw who was sharing their table and found it more pertinent to cry out:

"Ah! It's your straight man!"

Masumi's grin halted at that, as they were close enough to the table so that its occupants, Maya and Rei, could hear the comment. He forced it back into place, however, as he thanked the waiter and greeted his open mouthed dinner companions:

"Good day, ladies. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Uh—em—well," Maya stammered, prompting Rei to fill in the blanks, "Mizuki invited us."

"Of course she did," Masumi said, pulling out Kusano's chair. "And she also reserved a table for you, kind soul that she is. Judging by your expressions of awed malcontent, however, I suppose she forgot to mention that you had to share it with me?"

"Sh-she did," Maya stammered. She cleared her voice, smiling unsteadily as she added, "But it's certainly a pleasant surprise!"

_... What?_ Masumi scrutinised Maya thoroughly, but found no trace of sarcasm or deception in her expression. Apparently, she'd finally mastered the technique of faking courtesy. He should be pleased that his advice was being heeded, but as he had a habit of wanting two completely different things at the same time, he wasn't.

"It is," he finally agreed, moving over to his own seat. " Miss Kusano, let me introduce you to Rei Aoki, a friend of Maya's."

Rei's "Nice to meet you" came out a bit stuttered. Kusano's reply was smoothly delivered, however, and judging by the slightly flirtatious note in her voice, she was suffering from the common misconception that Rei was a man. Or maybe she was just open-minded.

"Now that you're all acquainted," he said, "will you please excuse me? I need to make a quick phone call."

"Yes, of course," Maya said, beaming at him.

Her smile actually made him take a step back out of surprise. He hardly heard Kusano when she told him to hurry back, just murmuring, "Yes" before he went out into the hotel corridor.

In just twenty-four hours, Maya'd gone from despising the very air he exhaled to treating him like a friend she hadn't seen in a long time. It didn't take a genius to know that something was rotten in the state of Shorty, or to know who was responsible for the sudden change.

He took out his cell phone and rang the person who was on the very top of his speed dial:

"Hello sir," Mizuki answered cheerfully, as though she wasn't about to be out of a job.

"You're fired," Masumi growled as a greeting.

"Howdy to you too," Mizuki said, no hint of intimidation in her damnably smug voice. "I hear you've made it to the restaurant."

"Yes, I did, and that's why I'm certain that you're_ insane_."

"Sorry, sir, but I'm not. Daito's yearly psych evaluation just came back, and I'm in excellent mental health."

"Then you're a nut that's learnt how to cheat the system. Who in their right mind would do something this bloody _convoluted_?"

Mizuki had the gall to _snort_. "Look who's calling the kettle black, Mr Purple Rose. Besides, it's not like I actively orchestrated this. I just thought it would be fun if it worked out, and as it turns out, it is. Thank you for living up to my expectations."

And what was there to be said to that? Here he was, bickering with Mizuki over setting him up on a surprise date with the girl he liked because he wasn't mentally prepared for it.

So, as he came to the conclusion there was no way for him to talk himself back into a position of dignity, he simply hissed:

"_Shrew_."

Mizuki laughed. "See you in a week, nerd."

With that, she hung up. Masumi felt a sudden urge to kick over one of the marble flower pots lining the hallway, but decided that petty acts of vandalism would never satisfy him as much as tripling Mizuki's workload would.

When he returned to the table, he walked right into a conversation:

"... it's a really interesting idea," Kusano enthused. "I love it when people play around with Shakespeare. One of my friends did a version of 'Twelfth Night', where the men were played by women and vice versa."

"Oh, I'd love to see that!" Rei said. "A man playing a woman pretending to be a man."

"Mr Hayami," Maya spoke as soon as Masumi'd sat down, "Miss Kusano said you're on vacation. What were you planning to do after the drama festival?"

Masumi'd planned to keep a stiff upper lip for the duration of the dinner, but some things just couldn't be borne. Maya treating him like a distant acquaintance was one of them.

"I'm not sure," he said, leaning towards her, putting his elbows on the table. "I was thinking of maybe buying a ranch in Texas, or go harpooning for dolphins. What do you think?"

Maya's smile didn't even twitch at that. In fact, it widened. "I've heard that dolphin isn't exactly appetizing, so I think a ranch would be more rewarding."

Masumi narrowed his eyes. "I'll take that in mind," he said, retreating from her personal space.

"I'm glad to have been of assistance," Maya chirped. "Now, should we order?"

Rei and Kusano gladly complied with the request, while Masumi just gave a tepid smile and a slight nod. There was something off about Maya, sure, and Mizuki was more than likely behind it, but a direct confrontation would only serve to make him look paranoid (which he was, but there was no reason for that to become common knowledge). If he'd been alone with Maya and Rei, he wouldn't have cared enough about his image to bother covering up his poor mental health, but there was Kusano to consider.

They waved over a waiter, and started giving their orders. As a way to start up his grade school level smear campaign, he drew attention to Maya's poverty:

"How were you planning to pay for this meal, shorty? Washing dishes?"

"Oh, no," Maya laughed, "Mizuki was kind enough to let us use her tab."

A licentious smile parted Masumi's lips. "Did she, now? It seems her kindness knows no bounds."

He was the last to order, and he did so with a nefarious glint in his eye:

"I'll have what she's having," he gestured at Maya. "I'd also like the most expensive bottle of wine you have. Thank you," he handed the waiter his menu, never taking his eyes off of the actress, "very much."

If there was one thing in the world that Masumi knew like he was born to do it, it was how to get a rise out of Maya. It was absolutely certain that she'd hiss at him to stop being weird and demand to know what he hoped to accomplish by being an ass, etc, etc.

Instead of sticking to protocol, Maya said:

"You've such faith in my taste, Mr Hayami? I'm flattered."

There was a reason as to why Masumi and Maya shouldn't converse with each other like normal human beings did: without an undercurrent of contempt, all the things Masumi chose to repress came bubbling to the surface. Like how he wanted to sit down and discuss every damn play, film and TV-series he'd ever watched with her, to talk about her childhood, and how he'd recently developed a strong urge to kiss the inside of her wrist.

"I just wanted to see what it's like to eat like a child," he said, shrugging with a nonchalance he definitely didn't feel.

"Then you should've ordered for yourself," Maya retorted with a cocked eyebrow.

That startled a laugh out of Masumi, as well as a smothered giggle from Rei. Kusano just glanced from Maya to Masumi, seemingly annoyed that she wasn't getting the real joke.

Unfortunately, Masumi was going to have to confuse her even further. Nothing short of a declaration of war was going to keep him from fawning at Maya when she was like this.

"Shorty," he said, putting the toe of his shoe against the leg of Maya's chair, "not that I don't appreciate your newfound sense of humour, but exactly what are you trying to do?"

"I'm not trying anything. We're just talking, Mr Hayami."

"And that's what's wrong with this picture. We don't 'talk', Maya. I badger and cajole, and you either scream curses or make snide comments in return. It's a perfectly sound dynamic for us, so I really don't see why you would want to ruin it."

"Let's just say that someone made me see you in a different light," Maya said, serenely nibbling on a complimentary breadstick.

"And that someone, was it by any chance a meddling underling who goes by the name Mizuki?"

"It's not for me to say," Maya said, but judging by the immense amount of attention she was showing her breadstick, he was right.

"Damn her and her entire ulcer ridden kin," Masumi swore. "What did she tell you then? From how you've been cooing and cawing at me, I'd guess she suggested you think of me as a poor, socially awkward orphan. Am I right?"

Maya's "No, not at all" was undermined by her shifty gaze.

"Mh-hm. Did it ever occur to you, in this diabolical plot to trick yourself that I have an excuse for my personality, that I'm not only an expert at social interaction, but also well-known for being the son of a very much alive millionaire?"

Masumi honest-to-god _flinched_ when Maya put her hand on top of his. Pathetic as his response was, it was only natural to be jarred when the impossible occurs.

"Money doesn't guarantee happiness," she told him, her voice low and soothing. "I don't think you're as satisfied with your life as you try to convince others you are."

Masumi held his breath, wondering if it was really possible that Maya'd figured it out, that she was—but no, she hadn't, as proven by the slightly self-satisfied curl of her smile. She still thought he was content with treating people like produce, and was just acting like she didn't because it gave her a strategic advantage over him.

He grit his teeth to feel something other than disappointment. _God__damn__ actresses._

"I don't tolerate being pitied, shorty," he said coldly, retrieving his hand from her grip. "Least of all by those less fortunate than me."

"We're both fortunate, I think," Maya protested. "Just in different ways."

Frustrated as he was, Masumi couldn't help but to be impressed. He'd never seen her so collected, and if her behaviour hadn't been the result of a big fat lie, he would've been delighted. But things being what they were, he just said:

"So this is really how you want to play it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, but the way she bit into her breadstick clearly communicated "Bring it".

Masumi sighed, shaking his head. "Oh, my dear shorty. I'd really hoped it would never have come to this, but you've forced my hand. You see, for the duration of our acquaintance, I've been holding back. I haven't even been half as infuriating as I could've been."

Her expression changed from serene indifference into one of horrified incredulity. As this was exactly what the sort of reaction Masumi'd hoped to inspire, he edged closer to her again, wrapping one arm around the back of her chair.

"Against all odds, you're still relevant to my financial interests," he said. "As such, it would be best if you continued being honest with me. You're easier to manage when you're transparent."

While he knew Maya would rather give Onodera a sensual foot massage than back down, he didn't expect her to lean towards him, so close that her arm brushed against his.

"I don't think you want to be hated. I think you want to be treated with respect and kindness, same as everyone else. Your 'demon' act is just that: an act."

Masumi cocked his head. "My dear, your faith in the fact that humanity is anything but a diverse collection of damaged people is endearing. Fact is, I don't care that you hate me, and I prefer sincerity to well-intended lies. So come on, shorty: hit me with your best shot. I promise I won't cry."

"No," she said, not even looking at him anymore. "I'm sorry, but I will treat you courteously, whether you like it or not."

"Well, then," Masumi moved back to his own seat with another sigh, "the gauntlet's been thrown. Don't say I didn't warn you." He turned to Kusano, pleased to see that she was enraptured rather than put off. "I apologize for my rudeness, Miss Kusano, but will you allow me to uphold the feud I told you about yesterday? It's a very important social and cultural procedure."

"Yes, of course!" Kusano agreed, looking like she had to keep herself from clapping excitedly. "Tradition is one the cornerstones of society, after all."

"Thank you for your understanding. And you, Miss Aoki? Do you give your permission to let me defend traditional Japanese values?"

Rei'd worn a bewildered expression ever since the mention of dolphin hunting. At that bizarre request, she gave up on being confused and became irritated instead:

"Feuds are _not_ a traditional Japanese value."

"If you're going to nitpick, then fine: feuds are a longstanding Hayami tradition. Will you make me bring shame upon my family, Miss Aoki? Is that something you're prepared to live with on your conscience?"

Rei murmured something that sounded like "Dear lord". "Since I don't have any real say in this, then fine, go ahead. Have a _duel _if you like; I don't care anymore."

"That actually sounds like fun," Masumi mused. "What do you say, shorty? Do you want to give pistols at dawn a go?"

"I don't think murder has ever solved anything," Maya said.

"You know this from personal experience?" Masumi rejoined. "I'm curious: do you go out of your way to assert your naivety, or does this blue-eyed shtick come as easy as breathing to you?"

Maya choose not to answer, but as her smile lost some of its graciousness, Masumi counted it as his victory.

_Oh,_ he thought, feeling the familiar thrill of self-destruction, _but this will be over before dessert._

He wasn't wrong. Near the end of the meal, he'd managed to wear Maya down to barely contained fury with remarks on her situation, her finances and her talent. He pressed every button that was within his reach, until Maya's knuckles were white around her utensils and she looked like she'd rather use them to cut Masumi up than her dinner.

This wasn't Masumi's proudest moment. He wanted desperately to stop, to tell Maya that he just wanted her to be herself because that was the version of her he liked best, and then recount the reasons why that was, but he couldn't. He probably would've made a fumbling attempt at it if they were alone, but as the prospect of saying anything of the kind in front of Rei and Kusano made him nauseated, sadly, it was not to be.

She finally broke when he'd said something particularly insightful and mean-spirited about Tsukikage and child protection laws. She threw her knife and fork down, her face devoid of the patience and benevolence it'd featured just a few minutes ago. She took a deep breath, fighting to compose herself even as she glared at Masumi.

"What's the matter, dear?" he asked, feigning innocence to pique her temper even further. "Have you discovered that I don't want your forced pity any more than you want my honest opinion? A little tip for you, shorty: treat people as you think they deserve to be treated, and not in the way that makes you look good. It's insulting, belittling and manipulative. I should know, as I do it all the time. Let's just go back to tearing each other's throats out, as nature intended. What do you say?"

Maya pinched her eyes shut, drawing in a breath so big, her chest actually heaved. When she looked at him again, she was emoting warmth and comfort like a campfire. Masumi froze, allowing Maya to reach out and pinch his cheek without offering any resistance.

"What a rascal you are!" she cooed affectionately, patting the red mark she'd left on his skin. "But you know," she caressed his temple with the back of her hand, "this isn't how a big boy should talk to other people. In the real world, we're nice to each other, because no one likes a bully. Do you understand?"

Rei's jaw was adjacent to the floor, while Kusano was practically vibrating with anticipation for Masumi's rebuttal.

Masumi digested Maya's speech, and concluded there was only one feasible course of action: cover his eyes, throw his head back and laugh. He didn't have any right to do anything else, as her hands-on lecture had actually been a little bit _too_ comforting. For a moment, he'd contemplated just curling into Maya's arms and having her pat his hair while murmuring that everything was going to be alright. The thought alone was enough to revoke his adulthood membership.

"You win, shorty," he told her after he'd managed to compose himself. "I'll never be able to top that. I bare my neck and am at your mercy."

"... What?"

"You win. Huzzah."

"What?" Maya reiterated, her eyes widening to enormous proportions. "Like, I really win? And you lose?"

"That's the basic mechanics of it, yeah. Would it help if I drew you a graph?"

Maya was completely still, as though any sudden movement would break the spell of the moment. Masumi bowed his head submissively, and that seemed to make the other shoe drop.

"... Will you excuse me?" Maya breathed, flushed with the joy of victory.

Without waiting for a reply, she lumbered away, only to stop mid step and go back to drag Rei with her. Masumi shook his head, chuckling, as he was a very gracious loser. He was about to make another excuse for his insane behaviour to Kusano, when she spoke:

"You're a little bit horrible, aren't you?"

It wasn't uncommon for people to ask Masumi just that, but Kusano was the first one who'd done so with a smile. It was that smile that told Masumi that he'd found what he'd unconsciously been waiting for: someone he could talk to about Maya without the risk of being mocked, demonized or having the subject matter herself slandered.

_This might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship_, he thought. For the first time in a _very_ long time, he spoke freely with a virtual stranger.

He was surprised by how nice it was, and resolved to enjoy it while it lasted.

OXOXO

It took about five minutes of skipping, uncoordinated shadowboxing and exclamations of "I _won_!" for Maya to come down off her victory high. Rei, who was used to being embarrassed in public forums, let Maya go about looking like a hyperactive idiot. She was just happy that her friend was happy.

She put her foot down, however, when Maya started doing cartwheels and handstands. Embarrassment was well staked territory, but she'd rather that complete mortification continued to be unfamiliar ground.

"That's _quite_ enough, you," Rei said, taking a firm hold of Maya's shoulders to make her stay put. "I'll admit that the way you snubbed him was glorious, but it doesn't call for acrobatics."

"But his _face_!" Maya protested. "And I _won_!"

"As eloquent as that was, it tells me nothing. Why do you even care if you 'win' or not?"

"It gives me great satisfaction to make him shut his trap. Aaa~aaah," Maya clutched her hands to her chest, curling in on herself with happiness, "this is the best moment of my _life_!"

"Oho, really? Then, what about when you won the 'Best Supporting Actress' award? Or when you became the audience's favourite? Or when you went on vacation with Shigeru?"

"... This is in the top ten, at least. But it's still so _very_ good."

"Personally, I don't think you should care about Hayami one way or another. Even if, uh, 'winning' makes you happy, fighting with him makes you vulnerable. He's not worth any effort or emotional investment on your part. It'd be for the best if you just ignored him."

Maya unfurled, her expression gaining a kicked puppy quality. "But... but I won."

Rei sighed, raking a hand through her hair. "Okay, okay; forget I said anything. To be sure, there'll be songs sung to commemorate this day, as well as a tickertape parade held in its honour. Now, do you feel about ready to go back and gloat?"

Maya nodded, some of her pep returning at the mention of rubbing her victory in the face of her enemy. As they walked back into the restaurant, she took hold of Rei's arm, asking her:

"You don't think I'm, uh... well, that I'm too focused on him, do you?"

"I do," Rei admitted, covering Maya's hands with her own, "but only because I think any focus is too much. But it's understandable. You've got a mountain of unresolved issues with him. It'd be strange if you _didn't_ lend him an occasional thought."

_Or create a completely different persona just to deal with him,_ she added to herself.

Maya bumped her forehead against Rei's shoulder. Rei squeezed her hand in return, ignoring the fact that everyone who saw them would definitely think they were a couple. There were certain things you were forced to put up with when you defied gender norms, and being mistaken for your best friend's boyfriend was one of them.

When they returned to their table in the restaurant, Hayami and Anna Kusano were talking and laughing like normal, civilised adults usually did. Funny that Hayami could never act that way with anyone who wasn't going to make him a lot of money.

"You're here already, shorty?" Masumi commented when Rei and Maya returned to their seats. "I thought you'd spend a good ten minutes doing cartwheels before calming down."

If Rei didn't know that Maya was as predictable as a train on a track, she'd be worried about how well Hayami seemed to know her.

"I didn't do anything like that," Maya argued. "I... I went to, uh, powder my nose."

"That would be quite a feat," Hayami said, cocking an eyebrow, "seeing as how you're not wearing any makeup."

"Ah, w-well..."

"Don't strain yourself, shorty," Hayami interrupted, playfully tapping the back of her hand. "I'm not trying to start anything. I'm actually going to do you and Miss Aoki a favour."

He fished his cell phone (which looked advanced enough to operate orbiting satellites) out of his inner jacket pocket and dialled a number with lightning speed precision. The person he'd called picked up after what must've been only a signal and a half.

"Hello, Mr Kamijou," Hayami spoke into the phone. "I hope there's no problem in the preparations for tonight? Glad to hear it. No, no, thank you, but I don't need a status update; I trust you've everything under control. I actually called because I have a favour to ask you: can you add two people to the guest list? I've sorry for giving you such short notice, but I would be really grateful if you could oblige me. Their names are Maya Kitajima and Rei Aoki. Wonderful, thank you, I'm really in your debt. Take care, Mr Kamijou."

He ended the call, tucked his phone away and finished off the last of his dinner. Rei tapped her fingers against the table, waiting for an explanation she knew wasn't coming.

Maya took a more direct approach:

"So, are you nice to everyone _except_ me, or what?"

"No," Hayami said, "I'm _dishonest_ to everyone but you. Take it as a compliment."

Maya snorted disgustedly. "No, I _won't_, because it isn't."

"Look at you, shorty, calling people on their bullshit." He winked in a way so artfully suggestive, Maya actually jumped. "Good on you."

"W-whatever," Maya stammered. "Ah," she pointed an accusatory finger at him, finally getting her priorities straight, "Mr Hayami, what the hell did you just do?"

"I invited you and Miss Aoki to a party tonight. Why do you ask?"

"What party?" Rei hurried to ask, wanting to at least have _some_ part in the conversation.

"It's being held in this hotel, actually. It's a little something Daito's cobbled together to rid thespians of the idea that we're philistines who merely use them for profit."

"Does it work?"

"Like a charm. That's why our reputation is squeaky clean and beyond reproach. But it does show them that even if we don't share their enthusiasm for dissecting the nature of man in three acts, we respect them for their competency at making us money. Besides, we corporate types will make up any excuse we can get to hand out business cards over shrimp cocktails."

"It's true," Kusano confirmed, "they really will. I have a whole suitcase of mayonnaise stained business cards."

Maya narrowed her eyes, staring at Masumi like she wanted to x-ray him. Masumi turned to her, as if to make sure she got as good an eyeful of him as she could possibly wish.

"That's very kind of you," Maya pronounced. "What's the catch?"

"I'm a man of action, shorty. I can't make practical use of the words 'I'm sorry', but I can still apologize. Oh, and if you choose to accept my offer, you'll owe me your eternal soul."

Maya made the wise choice of ignoring all but the essential gist of Hayami's speech. "So, uh... the invitation, that's the apology?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that. But I can wink, should you like."

"That's alright; I get it. Thank you, Mr Hayami. I really appreciate you deciding to act like an adult."

"It's nothing. Even a child can make a phone call. Now, would you like dessert, or are you about ready to leave?"

"No, thank you," Maya sniffed (though Rei knew that she wasn't the kind to look down her nose at sweets). "I'm here at Miss Mizuki's expense, so I'd rather not abuse her generosity."

"As her generosity always comes at the price of someone's dignity," Hayami said, "you'd do well to abuse it. Might teach her a lesson. How about you, Miss Aoki? Can I tempt you with an ice cream sundae? Apparently, it's got three kinds of sprinkles, as well as chopped nuts."

"As tempting as that sounds," Rei said, voice drier than a desert at noon, "I'll have to decline your kind offer of draining your subordinate's resources."

"You could order a dozen of desserts at this place and it wouldn't so much as dent Mizuki's resources. The people in my employ are paid handsomely, which is something you might want to consider."

It was almost admirable how Hayami could disregard nearly a decade of bad blood in order to make a blasé job proposal. "I'll be sure to take that into advisement. Where and when does the party you invited us to take place?"

"Did I forget to mention that?" He chuckled when Maya growled impatiently. "Try and overcome your savage nature and show me some sympathy, shorty. My memory's not what it used to be."

"Time," Maya barked. "Place."

"The time is after eight o'clock. The place is in a conference room in this hotel, named, disgustingly enough, the Elysian Hall. Anything else you'd like to know?"

There were a lot of things Rei wanted to ask Hayami. Like, "Why do you always direct your answers at Maya, when I'm the one talking to you, you rude bastard?", or "Were you held at all as a child, or were you just raised by automatons?", just to name a few. But as she wanted to leave more than she wanted to get an insight into Hayami's eccentric psyche, her question was pragmatic rather than abrasive:

"Is it fancy dress?"

"Officially, yes," Hayami said. "Unofficially, however, no one really gives a damn. Last year, a man wearing sandals and a belly warmer was the light of the party. Anything you want to wear's fine, as long as you bring your thinking cap with you."

He smiled at her, like he really thought she'd fit right in with the city's best and brightest.

"... Thank you, Mr Hayami," she said. After a few seconds of internal struggle, she managed to smile back. "It's really kind of you to invite us."

Hayami's grin turned sardonic. "When I said this was nothing, I really meant it. Save your gratitude for gestures that require any actual effort."

_Well, sorry I don't have a preset quota on politeness_. _Jackass._

"How about you, Miss Kusano? You want to eat something sweet before we visit the bar?"

"I only met your secretary once, but she seemed quite nice," Kusano said, twirling her fork around her finger as she bestowed Hayami with what might've been the most flirtatious grin Rei'd ever had the misfortune of seeing. "I'd hate to give her a bad impression of me by pigging out at her expense."

For whatever reason, Hayami saw fit to leer at that. "Oh, trust me; she feels _very_ favourably about you. Alas, as I have a girlish figure to be mindful of, here's where we part ways, shorty. Why don't you call for the check, and I'll be out of your hair."

Maya sneered at him as she signalled for a waiter. The sneer turned into an outraged glare as she cried:

"Wait a minute—why should we put this on Miss Mizuki's tab, when _you're_ here?"

"Because it would be really funny?" Hayami ventured.

"Only to you," Maya said, "and you've had too much fun at other people's expense as it is."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've always laughed _with_ you, shorty." When Maya wilted, putting her head in her hands, he said; "But you do have a point. I've actually enjoyed this dinner, so I don't mind paying for it."

"Of course you'd enjoy it. You'd done nothing but argue with me the whole time."

"I fancy you've gotten as much out of this as I have, and as I'm incredibly easy to please, that's saying something. Don't pretend that you don't enjoy making me shut my trap, shorty; it's a perfectly natural urge, and nothing to be ashamed of."

So in a bout of uncharacteristic generosity, Hayami paid for the meal with a golden credit card (there really should be a legal limit to how obnoxiously flashy one person could be). He even pulled out Maya's chair for her as they rose to leave.

"Quit it," was all Maya had to say on the subject of Hayami's chivalry.

"As you wish." Hayami went over to perform the same favour for Kusano, who received the gesture with a lot more graciousness. "Thank you for the entertainment, my dear friends."

"Happy to oblige," Rei said, not even trying to disguise her sarcasm. If Hayami liked honesty so much, that's what he was going to get.

"It was really nice to see you again, Miss Kitajima," Kusano said, striding up to Maya to shake her hand. "I was actually hoping to run into you again. Mr Hayami made you out to be someone you just had to get to know better, and I feel he was right."

Maya blushed like it was going out of fashion. "Oh, th-thank you. I'm happy meeting you again too, even if we didn't get to talk much."

"We'll have a chance to at the party tonight. I trust you'll be there too, Miss Aoki?"

The once-over Kusano gave Rei as she took her hand was, if not outright solicitous, then at least intrigued.

_It's like I'm a beacon for the bi-curious,_ Rei thought with an inward sigh. "I'll be there, Miss Kusano. I hope Maya won't take up all your attention, because I'd love for you to tell me more about your work."

Kusano looked pleased by that, and even if Rei considered her as little more than Hayami's arm candy, it was always nice to be appreciated.

The director turned back to Hayami and said, in English:

"Let us blue coats march on then, Mr Hayami."

"It'd be my honour to march under your banner, Miss Kusano," Masumi replied, his accent flawless as far as Rei's (admittedly untrained) ear could tell.

Maya stared, as though the two had just done something awe-inspiring rather than merely bi-lingual. Though Rei'd heard her speak English, and you didn't have to know the language to know that she was butchering it.

"Bye for now, shorty," Masumi said, offering his arm to Kusano. "Be sure to save me a place on your dance card."

"Please die," Maya said, which of course made Hayami laugh, because he was a horrible person that fed on negativity.

"Finally, a proper challenge! If you intend to fight me to the death, shorty, I'd recommend you go with pistols rather than rapiers. I fenced at the university, but I've never handled a gun in my life."

Kusano gasped. "You disillusion me! I thought all you silver spoon types did was hunt pheasants and dolphins in your spare time!"

"Alas, we have this thing called 'gun control' in Japan, you might not have heard about it..."

Kusano and Masumi exchanged xenophobic and classist jokes (as privileged people are wont to do) until they reached the corridor. Masumi bowed to Maya and Rei, deceptively grave as he told them:

"Take care, my friends. Our reunion can't come quickly enough."

"We'll wait with bated breath," Rei returned, hooking her arm around Maya, drawing her away before she could get into another hour long argument with him.

They'd planned on taking one last stroll through the stalls in the hotel, but as they had about six hours to prepare for a party thrown for the crème de la crème of theatre, they went directly to the train station (much to Maya's disappointment). It was there, while going through their purchases, that Rei had a sudden epiphany:

"Aren't you're still blacklisted?"

"Eh?" Maya looked up from "The Importance of Being Earnest" with a dazed expression. "I'm what?"

Rei made sure that the book was closed before she repeated her question:

"You're still blacklisted, right?"

Maya flushed, scraping her nail against the book's cover. "I... I suppose so. I don't know how it works, but yeah, since nothing's changed, probably. Why?"

"I just thought that it might be hard to find anyone who wants to talk to you at a party where everyone will definitely know you're blacklisted and resent you for it."

"Oh." Her crestfallen expression more than made up for her underwhelming speech. "That _would_ be hard."

They slumped together, reading from "The Importance of Being Earnest" while trying to solve the problem of social stigma.

"You go on your own, Rei," Maya muttered when it became clear that she couldn't change society's mindset before nightfall. "I'll only bring you down."

"You're such an adorable martyr, but I'll have to say no. You're the one who needs to make connections, not me."

"But I can't. Nobody but Hayami will talk to me, and I don't want to rub elbows with him. Well," her face took on a day dreaming quality, "unless I could rub it in his face..."

"Oh!" Rei laughed, touching her hand to her forehead. "Of course; Hayami! He's the golden ticket."

"... What?"

"You know the way people bend over for him like reeds in the wind," Rei explained. "If he put in a good word for you, everyone will at least try to follow him."

"And why would he do that?"

"Because he's already done it once before, for one."

Maya huffed. "In opposite land, maybe."

"Sometimes I worry if you can see past your nose," Rei despaired, flicking at the nose in question. "But even if you don't believe me, you seem to have won his favour today. He'll help you out, if only because it'll amuse him and impress his date."

"And what if he still says no?"

"Then you emotionally blackmail him in front of his lady friend without a shred of regret. He owes you a lot more than a friendly introduction, Maya, and there's no shame in reminding him of that."

Maya still looked unconvinced, playing with the corner of the book a bit aggressively. Rei was about to ask what was so bad about squeezing some well earned payback out of a horrible capitalist, when Maya cried out:

"But I _won_! I shouldn't have to go crawling to him for help just minutes after! That's... hateful!"

"You won't lose just because you ask for help," Rei reasoned patiently. "The world is insane, and therefore, he's the one with the connections and you're the one without. Once it's started making sense again, he'll be begging you for favours while you can't throw a rock without hitting a rich and famous friend."

Maya smiled dopily at the mental image. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

"It's a very nice vision of the future, isn't it? But in order for it to come about, you have to make a few compromises, such as asking Hayami for help."

Maya pursed her lips so severely, it looked like she was trying to suck them into her mouth. After a few minutes, during which she'd folded her fingers into fists, she finally acceded:

"Alright, alright! I'll do it! You just," she shoved her bags at Rei, only keeping her purse, "take that home, and I'll follow you once I'm done blackmailing Hayami."

"Now?" Rei tried to balance her new (rather enormous) load. "I thought you'd do it once the party—"

"_No_," Maya said determinedly. "I want as few people as possible to see this."

Rei sighed, but let it go. Maya didn't let her pride get in the way all that often, but once she did, it was impossible to reason with her. "He and Miss Kusano were just going to have a drink in one of the bars in the hotel. Do you think you can make it before they've moved on?"

"Hayami is one of those 'connoisseurs'." Maya said the word like others would say "pervert". "They'll be there an hour, at the very least. I'll just shoot in like lightni—wait, one of the bars? There's more than just the one in the restaurant?"

"The place is like fifteen stories high; of course it has more than one. There's the restaurant one, one by the lobby, a wine bar on the third floor—"

"Alrightalrightalright," Maya rambled, jogging in place with a rather frantic expression, "I'll just have to search them all. Wish me luck?"

"Good luck," Rei leaned forward and kissed Maya's forehead, "and God speed."

Maya smiled weakly at the encouragement and, without further ado, took off like a bat out of hell that had very urgent business to take care of. It was impressive what she could accomplish when she put her mind to it, seeing as she usually was incapable of moving faster than approximately three km/h.

_There's something strangely moving about the sight of a young girl chasing after her destiny,_ Rei thought. She purposefully ignored the fact that said destiny involved hunting down the antithesis of everything good in the world in order to play on his sympathy.

As she was getting on the train going home ten minutes later, it occurred to Rei that there might be a slight hitch in her otherwise perfect plan. For one, even if Maya _did_ bring up the whole "You killed my mother, you owe me one" issue, would Hayami even respond? Did he think that taking her in when he didn't have to made up for the whole thing, because hey, he'd done more than expected? Would he even care about whether Maya said anything in front of Kusano? He'd already harassed Maya in front of her without any signs of compunction, and it wasn't like she carried any weight in Japan outside of her work with Daito. So all in all, her plan had been shit, and now Maya was going to suffer the consequences.

Rei rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, perfectly aware that she looked ridiculous doing so, as she had at least three bags hooked on each arm. _Worst Drama Festival __ever__._

But there was nothing she could do about it now but to pray. She clasped her hands together, still not caring about the funny glances she was getting for her troubles, and beseeched every higher power she could think of:

_God, Buddha, Odin, Brahma, Izanagi, the __Wizard of Oz__, I don't care; someone, __please__, just give him a heart. _

* * *

A/N: Uuuuuuugh. I don't know why—seriously, it mystifies me—but this was _incredibly_ difficult to write. And it's not just because I had to google the phrase "What does dolphin taste like?".

It's official: I hate this story and all the morally dubious things it forces me to do. I curse the day I began working on it, and I will celebrate with wine (well, rum and coke), women/men/anyone with a forthcoming attitude and song when it's finished.

(But seriously, I'm actually strangely fond of this abomination. It's just that if it were to take on human form, I would knee it in the face for all the misery it's caused me).


	4. Take Heart

A/N: Surprise, totally obscure guest appearance! I'll give you a hint: he appears in volume 9 in the manga. Also, he has mutton chops, and for that reason alone, he's one of my favourite characters.

Masumi was a bit of a connoisseur when it came to alcohol. This depressed him greatly, as he'd developed a mild contempt for the so-called "bourgeois" lifestyle during his university days that'd stayed with him ever since. So sure, he wore designer suits, obscenely expensive accessories and drove around in limousines, but he didn't particularly care for them. They were all just means to an end, but alcohol had somehow become the exception to the rule. Masumi rather suspected this also had something to with his university days, as it was during those that he'd first gotten a, well, _taste_ for alcohol. To put it as pretentiously as possible, to him, liquor was like distilled emotions. Just the taste of it, the burn of it down his throat, made him revel in things that he could hardly even focus on normally.

It was because of this (somewhat unhealthy) emotional connection that he felt genuine pain when Kusano revealed that she'd hardly ever drunk anything that didn't come with either an umbrella or a straw.

"If I drank with my eyes closed," she added, "I'm pretty I wouldn't be able to tell white and red wine apart. Or champagne and cider, at that."

The very marrow of Masumi's bones turned cold at that. "I deeply regret having to hear that. Much as I'd like to cultivate your taste, I've only got one day to do so."

"Such a shame," Kusano said, and yes, Masumi knew she was flashing him some rather non-platonic smiles, but if he were to shun people just because they were attracted to him, then he'd never be able to talk to anyone.

"Indeed," Masumi sighed. "So to make the most out of our time together, I suggest we order some sake."

"I'm... not sure I would recommend it. I've a distinct memory of spitting out a mouthful of it when my mom was trying to make me more invested in my cultural heritage and all that jazz."

"While that would be fun to watch, there's a difference between sake made in Japan and sake made in America. Give it a try, and if you don't like it, I'll order something more suitable. Like Baileys. With milk. And a funny straw."

"Baileys is the nectar of the gods, you disagreeable man. Go ahead and order whatever you want; I'll sneer at you over the brim of it regardless."

Masumi grinned as he ordered. "You're quite rude. I like that in a person."

"So I've noticed. I've never seen a man so allergic to politeness."

"Politeness's a dull, repetitive and misleading form of communication. Insults require more thought and insight than 'How d'you do?', and are generally more fun to respond to."

"So you say, but you're quite nice, aren't you? Inviting the opposition to parties and keeping them fed with gourmet dinners. Who needs friends with an archenemy like you?"

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Besides," he summoned up a smug grin with a little difficulty, "now she owes me. Shorty's got the strange notion that she has to uphold old-fashioned notions of honour and virtue, no matter how certain she is that it's going to come back and bite her somewhere unpleasant."

"A true Gryffindor! But it's cute that you accuse her of being old-fashioned when you're the one declaring feuds to protect your family honour."

"The art of war is timeless. And don't give me lip; I'm the one spending a small fortune to keep you liquored up."

Kusano didn't let the arrival of the sake delay her in giving a reply:

"I thought you liked lip!"

"Not when it concerns my family honour."

He nodded his thanks to the bartender as he grabbed the sake flask, pouring it into two saucers.

"Try and sneer over the brim of that," he said, raising his own saucer mockingly.

With some careful planning, Kusano managed to do just that. It was for naught, however, as her sneer instantly transformed into a grimace.

"I'm not fond of this," she informed him in between trying to suck the taste off her tongue.

Masumi made a non-committal noise, deciding to deal with Kusano's dismal taste after he'd satisfied his far superior one.

Sake had a very important, dreadfully sentimental meaning to Masumi. His mother had been old-fashioned, so every New Year's Eve, she'd made him sip toso, always laughing at the disgusted face he'd make at the taste.

"Well, now you'll at least be squeaky-clean in here," she'd tapped at his chest, "for a whole year."

He hadn't kept up the tradition after her death, unwilling to contradict her beliefs. But it was a good memory, and it was easier to hold onto when he was in informal company, rather than with the usual suits who shared his taste for strong alcohol. It was interesting, how well items, tastes and smells could retain memories that were little more than hazy and useless in his own head. It was at times like this that he could almost understand his father's obsession with a kimono.

When he'd gotten his fill of nostalgia, he noticed that Kusano was staring at him. Not in a way that communicated "I'd tap that", fortunately, but which he found unsettling nonetheless. It was as though she were trying to make out how he was constructed, and what she could use him for once she knew.

Experience told Masumi that nothing good could come of that expression.

"What?" he asked her, raising his eyebrows.

After another moment of inspection, Kusano pronounced, apropos nothing:

"Your face is truly astounding."

"... Oh." Masumi's eyes flickered to his saucer, as though he could find a proper response there. "Thank you. Though I can hardly take credit where my parents' genetics are due."

"I don't mean that your face looks nice, though it does, of course. It's more what you do with it. Do you know that in under a minute, you've gone from being fond to wistful to resentful? It was quite fascinating to watch."

"I... can sincerely say that no one's complimented me quite like that before." Masumi chuckled, deciding to be amused rather than put-upon.

"Bless you. Let me get you a suitable gift in return."

He tapped the bar to get the bartender's attention, and once he had it, he ordered:

"An umeshu on the rocks for the lady."

"Umeshu?" Kusano pouted thoughtfully. "Sounds familiar."

"Do you know _anything_ about Japan at all? This isn't exactly insider information."

"It's not my fault! My mother gave up on teaching me anything about this place after I turned my kimono into a mini-dress."

"You sound like you were an absolutely wretched child."

"Seems like something we've in common."

"Not in the least. I was a parent's dream: attentive, considerate and obedient. I wore bowties and knee shorts without a single complaint."

"Oh dear! Whatever happened to change all that?"

Masumi bared his teeth in a grin, pouring himself more sake. "Growing up to become filthy rich and devastatingly handsome negated the need for a nice personality."

Kusano rolled her eyes just as the bartender served her drink. "I see that it has. Now, I'm sure this will be disgusting," she picked up her glass, swirling around the liquid in it, "but because I'm incredibly gracious, despite being wealthy and gorgeous, I'll still drink it."

She did as she'd bid, and her face lit up on the very first sip.

"This is delightful and downright stupendous!" she exclaimed, taking a substantially bigger gulp. "Even better than Baileys!"

"That's high praise indeed. You'd think that after all your years in this business, you'd have developed a taste more sophisticated than 'mother's milk'."

"We can't all sustain on three martini lunches, lush."

Masumi was more than capable of answering that slight, but he was distracted by the doors to the bar being thrown open by a decidedly out of wind Maya.

"Shorty?" He was standing before he'd even finished speaking.

Maya was too far away to hear him. She stumbled over to a vacant table, nearly draping herself over it as she noisily tried to catch her breath.

"Miss Kitajima!" Kusano exclaimed. "What're you doing here?"

Maya's head snapped up, her eyes flicking from Kusano to Masumi. She looked so miserable, red-faced and puffing away like a steam engine, that Masumi couldn't help but to reach out to her.

"I assume you're here for me?" he said, smiling a bit more kindly than what was his habit.

Maya didn't say anything, but really, when she was looking at him like he was the end of all human suffering, words were rather redundant.

She walked up to him, so out of it that she actually grabbed his arms and allowed him to curl his finger around her elbows.

Masumi was so absorbed in trying to memorize every last detail of the contact, he nearly missed it when Maya puffed out:

"D'you know... there're six different bars here?"

As Masumi'd expected nothing short of "Masumi Hayami, you're my only hope", that non-sequitur blindsided him. He bit his cheek as hard as he could, but some of his amusement must've shone through, as Maya shot him a dirty look.

"Are you alright, Miss Kitajima?" Kusano, most inopportunely, spoke up. "Do you need some water?"

"Oh, no," Maya breathed, ripping her arms out of Masumi's grasp, "I'm fine. I just need to speak with Mr Hayami about something really quick."

"You needed to speak to me so badly, you ran up seven flights of stairs?" Masumi said, ducking his head to get her to look him in the eye again. "Shorty, you move me."

"I ran in a professional capacity," Maya growled, strengthening her statement by taking a step back.

"Naturally," Masumi acceded, "and I'm moved in a professional capacity. So what's so urgent it couldn't wait until tonight? Fashion advice?"

"No, I—" Maya stopped, fully comprehending how rude the remark had been. "_No_. I just need to speak to you, _unfortunately_. In private."

"I'd like nothing better." He inclined his head towards Kusano. "I'll be right back. Shorty never wants to chat with me longer than absolutely necessary."

"One wonders why," Kusano returned drily before returning to her umeshu with near pornographic fervour, if the bartender's flushed face was anything to go by.

Masumi led Maya over to a table in the back. She sat down with a graceless thump, letting out a blissful sigh that made Masumi shiver.

"So," he said, rolling his shoulders before following her example, "what's on your mind?"

"I... sort of need to ask you a favour." Maya couldn't have looked more pained and annoyed even if someone had been incessantly flicking at her temple.

"Two favours in a day? I'm starting to think you're taking advantage of my good nature, shorty."

"First of all," Maya snapped, "I didn't _ask_ to be invited to that party. _You_ didn't even ask me if I wanted to be invited to that party. Secondly, I only need this favour because you didn't think through the first one."

Masumi snorted. "That's gratitude for you."

"Well, it's true! I'm still blacklisted, Mr Hayami. Even if I go to the party, no one'll want to talk to me."

Maya's voice was strained, challenging Masumi to make some poor joke at that. Her anticipation wasn't entirely in the wrong, as the remark "Go for the open bar, then," _was _on the tip of Masumi's tongue, but really, he didn't feel up to arguing. Sake just drained the fight right out of him.

"You'll be my guest," he drawled. "That'll be enough to make people play nice. People are really very easy to get along with, shorty, if you've the right playmates."

"So, what, you're fine with... with fraternizing with the enemy?"

"We're in a truce, remember? You're no more my enemy than a pup on a prairie. Besides, if I didn't want to," he smothered a chuckle, "want to 'fraternize', why would I make you my guest in the first place? It'd be a bit weird to invite you, only to have you stand in a corner looking stupid..."

He trailed off, as both he and Maya realized that inviting someone to a party where they'd be alienated was exactly the sort of thing he would do, and that he'd no doubt benefit from using the strategy on Maya.

Masumi blamed his slip-up on the difficulty of handling two-three personas at once. It'd confuse even the best of men.

To cover up his mistake, he pointed out one of Maya's:

"But what's more interesting is if that's what you think of me, then why would you come to me for help? I'm heartless, as you delight in pointing out, so why'd you think I'd listen to you?"

Maya's countenance darkened, her fingers twining together into a tight knot.

"I didn't think you'd listen," she murmured. "I just didn't have any other option."

Masumi leaned closer to her. "What do you mean?"

Maya worried her lip for a few seconds, before she drew herself up.

"I don't know anyone who would help me but you," she said, "even if you only do it because you think it'll be fun, or because I'll owe you. But it doesn't matter why you do it, because acting means more than anything to me. If I have to give up my pride to keep on doing it, then that's what I'll do."

It took Masumi a moment to recover from what might very well have been a swoon.

"You're so dashing, shorty," he chirped (a bit breathlessly), "you're giving me the vapours. But in all seriousness, Maya, I don't want your pride; it has no business belonging to anyone but you. I promise you that tonight, I'll make you irresistible, without requiring anything in return. I'll introduce you as an actress I admire greatly, but who was ultimately too good for my company. Will that suffice?"

Maya faltered in her brooding sobriety.

"Y-yes," she stammered, "yes, it will. Thank you," she added hesitantly.

Masumi waved his hand dismissively. "You don't have to twist yourself into an unnatural shape just for that, shorty. I don't like being thanked for petty favours, anyway."

Maya huffed. "You're doing something nice, so I'm going to thank you for it."

"Why? Are you trying to condition me to associate good deeds with your hilariously reluctant approval? Because if you are, it might just work. I'd become a saint if it meant that you'd look at me like this more often."

"You're _ridiculous_."

"How quickly your good opinion is lost. But seriously, shorty, right now, I'm on vacation. I just don't have the energy to don the old cloak and dagger. You'll be as safe with me as you would be with a friend."

"I doubt that."

"As you should. Would you like some sake?"

"... Eh?"

"You came a long way for something you didn't even need to ask for, shorty. It's only right that you should get something out of your Homeric travels. So," Masumi rose, offering her his hand, "stay for a cup?"

Naturally, Maya ignored his offer of assistance, getting up on her own. "Well... I suppose... but only for one cup."

"Oh, lovely! I was sure you were going to say no. You're growing to become quite an agreeable young woman."

Masumi was a bit thrown when Maya responded to that with:

"Gak!"

The mystery of the unorthodox reply was cleared up by Maya's eyes bugging out as she looked around the bar. But so as to not be presumptive, Masumi asked her:

"Is there something wrong?"

"N-nothing," she said, checking her expression (to little effect). "I just didn't notice how... how nice this place was until now."

"Just remember to swallow at a regular interval, lest you drool all over the place."

That piece of witticism made Maya displeased with the hand Masumi'd closed around her elbow.

"You're crowding me," she growled, trying to repel him with the power of her glare.

"My apologies." Masumi politely observed the customs of personal space. "I just thought you might need a steadying hand."

"Well, I don't."

"I see that now. You're steady as a reed, aren't you?"

Maya hopped ahead of him towards the bar, muttering about hateful people and their extensive collection of twisted characteristics to herself. When she came up to Kusano, she swapped surliness for a warm smile.

"Hello again," she said, rubbing her neck sheepishly. "Sorry for intruding, but Mr Hayami insisted I stay for some sake."

"You're not intruding at all," Kusano protested. "Mr Hayami needs a proper drinking buddy, since I'm allergic to the taste of sake."

"I'm sure you'll make an ample substitute," Masumi told Maya as he returned to his barstool.

He'd meant to say it in a playful fashion, but realized too late that in speaking with his mouth just a few inches from Maya's ear, he'd only managed to convey a sense of intimacy. He backed off as naturally as he could, observing Maya from the corner of his eye as he asked for another cup. Judging by how her shoulders went rigid, she'd picked up on the intimacy, but by taking her flushed face into account, he could surmise that she hadn't found it completely objectionable.

"And in true drinking buddy tradition," Masumi said, smirking smugly as he poured out a cup for Maya, "let's toss it back in one gulp."

"No," Maya said, sniffing at her drink.

"You've no respect for tradition," Masumi despaired, before knocking back his cup.

"Kanpai!" Kusano exclaimed, clapping her hands as if Masumi was putting on a show (which he supposed he was).

Maya begrudgingly gave Masumi an impressed nod before she started drinking her own sake. She lit up at the first sip, the warm smile on her lips making Masumi all the more aware of how flushed he was starting to become.

"You look like you're nursing nectar," he teased. "Are you trying to make it last so you can stay with me for as long as possible?"

"Does that seem even a little bit likely?"

"So you're just here for the booze, then? But you know, I never figured you for a sake lover. In fact, I didn't think it was even legal for you to be one."

Maya gave him the obligatory "You're a moron and no one likes you" glare before answering:

"I'm not a sake lover. I just... I think it's romantic. I don't know why, but it makes me think about temple services and period dramas."

"You actors see gods and romance in everything."

"What do you see then?"

Masumi touched the brim of his cup to Maya's, lips stretched into a shit-eating grin. "I see the grease used to slick the cogs of commerce."

Maya shook her head slowly, pity apparent in her eyes. "You're dead inside, aren't you?"

"No, no!" Masumi laughed. "Just hollow, like a dried up husk. I can't afford to romanticize, shorty. Passion would burn me up like a piece of tinder."

"Do you _ever_ make sense?"

"Sometimes. On Tuesdays, mostly. More sake, dear?"

"No, thank you. I've got to get ready for this party I was invited to at six hours' notice."

"What's to prepare? Just throw on one of your more posh flower-printed dresses and you'll be good to go."

"I _really_ wish people would stop making fun of my clothes. What's so wrong with them?"

"Nothing." Masumi tugged at the cuff of Maya's blouse. "The fifties were a lovely time for women's fashion, and it's nice that there's someone left to honour it."

"I am leaving," Maya announced, pushing herself away from the bar.

"I know you are," Masumi said, spinning around on his barstool to watch her go, "because my heart just started to ache."

Maya strode off, but almost immediately came back, exclaiming:

"Bother you! You made me forget about Miss Kusano!"

"You being a rude brute is somehow my fault?"

"From what I've observed," Kusano cut in, "yes." She reached out, enveloping Maya's hand with her own. "Let's ditch this troublemaker at the party, Miss Kitajima. I'd like to have at least one rewarding conversation while I'm here in Japan, and Mr Hayami doesn't seem willing to oblige."

"Et tu, brute?" Masumi inquired of Maya. "I give you the drink of the gods, and you steal my date?"

"You can both be my dates!" Kusano protested. "I have two arms; you can have one each."

"It might be fun," Masumi mused, "to share a woman with another woman."

Maya's face turned red with alarming rapidity. She stuttered out a series of noises that might, with the help of some sort of audio device, be deciphered as, "Good bye, Miss Kusano, see you tonight!" before racing out, nearly colliding with a couple in the bar entrance. As they were both of that jaded sort of adult that likes laughing at teenagers because it makes them feel better about their lost youth, Masumi and Kusano chuckled for a good minute at Maya's antics before turning to other topics:

"Sorry about throwing you in front of the bus like that," Kusano said. "It just seemed like the most effective way to get her approval."

Masumi nodded. "I'll drink to a fellow mercenary."

They clinked their glasses together before indulging in their contents.

"D'you know," Kusano said, narrowing her eyes at her umeshu, "I wonder how this would taste with some Cola? It might give it a bit more of a sweet sting."

Masumi closed his eyes, his chest constricting with misery.

"For the sake of our friendship, Miss Kusano," he said once he was strong enough to speak, "I suggest we never meet in a bar again."

oxoxo

Maya hated Masumi Hayami. This wasn't exactly so much new information as it was a law of nature, but it bore to be repeated.

_The smug pervert_, she thought darkly, pressing the elevator call button. In a small fit of rage, she mashed the button another three times, and immediately felt guilty about it. She sighed, hanging her head; the euphoria of victory had definitely worn off. _Why can't I stay cool for more than an hour at a time? Is it too much to ask to be able to go a whole day without embarrassing myself? Is it __really__?_

Her existential train of thought was cut short by a plaintive cry:

"Why does this keep happening? This was supposed to be a fun little relaxing thing!"

She turned around to see a man with a set of truly impressive mutton chops roam the hall. Despite the fact that his face was currently twisted in untold agony, Maya recognised him almost instantly: his name was Ota, and he'd directed a play that had lost one of its actors just hours before the premiere. Hayami had basically thrown Maya at him as a replacement actor ninety minutes before the curtain was due to go up, and as she'd managed to make an okay job out of it, she was on pretty good terms with Ota. Or, she had been; he probably wouldn't even recognise her now.

"Director Ota?" she said. "Are you alright?"

It took a few seconds for her words to penetrate the bubble of despair surrounding Ota, but when it did, his attention snapped to her with laser beam focus. His expression transformed almost instantaneously into one of rapture, and he cried out:

"My saving goddess!" He spread his arms wide and sprinted towards Maya.

"W-what?" Maya stammered. "Director Ota, what—?"

"I'll explain on the way!" Ota grabbed her wrist and started tugging her along. "Come on! The show must go on!"

There was little Maya could do in the current situation—desperation had lent Ota superhuman strength—but to let out a loud, long:

"Eeeeh?!"


End file.
